


One Found Omega

by AlphaElixir



Series: The One [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 18 year old Derek, Alpha!Laura, Alpha!Stiles, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Beta everyone else, Beta!Cora, Death, Everyone else is like 20ish, Everyone fully shifts, Everyone's a werewolf, F/M, Flashbacks, Gore, M/M, Omega!Allison, Omega!Derek, Omega!Melissa, Panic Attacks, Physical Abuse, Protective Pack, Retired Alpha!Gerard, Retired Alpha!Sheriff, Sexual Abuse, Sheriff is known as John, Sort of Freeform, Torture, Verbal Abuse, alpha!Kate, badass females, freeform Omega
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-04
Updated: 2015-08-20
Packaged: 2018-02-24 02:02:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 22
Words: 33,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2564144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlphaElixir/pseuds/AlphaElixir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek Hale never had a family. The first memory he has is of his pack, surrounding him with sneers and unclothed. That was years ago. Now he's a full grown 18 year old Omega who's been left by the only family he's known. Then comes a "Stiles" whatever that is. Derek's finding out that everything he's ever known is apparently wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Little Omega and the Big Friendly Alpha

**Author's Note:**

> My new story! Guys this is probably gonna be a long ride and it's going to have it's downs but if you've read Losing You Hurt, ROTG, then you know how well I do that. Enjoy! Also, I feel like it should be said that I hate naming the Sheriff John because "John Winchester" but it's all I got so it's staying. 
> 
> Just saying, the tenses in this chapter are all screwed up. I'll go back and fix it later, I just wanted to get this chapter out.

He was alone. The others, wolves who raised him and fed him, left him. Derek, a newly raised 18 year old Omega, had been beaten within inches of his life, some healing suppressor collar fitted around his neck and left to bleed out early that morning. He’d been out for some time, only now awakening to the cool evening air.

He tried to move, first his arms then his legs, but all disobeyed his orders. He can only lie there and whimper like the little Omega that he is and that only reinforces every word he’s ever heard from his Alpha’s—Ex-Alpha’s mouth. Well, except for the dirty talk when she used him.

It's minutes later that the pain registers. He’s been cut up by claws and inhuman teeth; beaten with strength only wolves could possess. He’s been burned, kicked, punched, hurt, forgotten. But his body does not forget the pain it’s in. Doesn't seem to be able to move past the blinding hurt from being unable to heal. It’s a brief moment that he wonders if all his life this is how he was meant to die.

It’s right after this thought that he hears the crunch of leaves. Hope spurs in his chest. Had they come back for him? Did Kate forgive him? He didn't know what he’d down wrong but he swore he’d try harder to do everything exactly how Kate and Zayne liked it. Everything.

“Who are you?” The voice is unfamiliar. It’s deep but still higher than any of his pack mate’s. Suddenly Derek is scared. If it’s any other wolf what will they do? Kate said every pack only needed one Omega and every other one within thousands of miles nearby had one. If he left, he’d be as good as dead.

Derek can’t breathe, can’t bring himself to open his eyes. He knows, even without his ability to smell that this isn't pack and he’s dead. The moment this wolf gets a decent whiff of Derek’s base scent under all the rust of blood, the wolf will kill him.

“Hey, hey, calm down. Look at me,” The wolf says to him. Derek can hear the Alpha tones and knows he has to obey. He swallows before cracking his eyelids apart. He sees a scrawny adult, brown hair styled up and glowing red eyes. The man’s wearing a grey sweatshirt and jeans and Derek would never guess this is an Alpha. Not with his only comparison being Zayne.

“Good, now talk to me. Who are you?” He repeats. Derek takes a few more deep breaths before answering. His throat is dry and he can barely scratch out the basics.

“Derek Hale, Omega, 18.”

“Derek, where’s your pack?”

He doesn't really have an answer for that so he tries to shake his head but that hurts far too much so instead he just looks up at the wolf with eyes that say, ‘alone’ and leaves it at that.

The wolf seems to understand as he replied, “I’m going to pick you up and take you to my den, okay?”

Derek really doesn't understand why an Alpha is asking him. He can’t go against whatever he says so he stays still and waits for the pain when the Alpha picks him up. He isn't disappointed. A series of low whines escape his throat and he curses himself out for being so weak. Years of training should have made him stronger but it hadn't. Maybe that’s why Kate left him.

The hike is a long one and Derek can’t stop whining. Every inch of his body hurts so bad he almost wishes this alpha would kill him just to make the pain stop. Eventually he passes out.

 _I LIKE USING LINE BREAKS_

Stiles is lost. An omega is in his territory, almost dead clearly from being beaten, with the scents of so many other wolves on him, _in_ him, that there’s no way he didn't have a pack. And worse, he had on one of the new technology hunter collars on. The ones that prevent healing or shifting. Yet there wasn't a single hunter’s scent mixed with the others.

Something was going on and this omega was clearly in the middle of it. No matter how curious Stiles was to find out what was going on, he had priorities and right now they were screaming that he had to get the wolf to Deaton. He’d be able to figure the collar situation out and get the damn thing off. Then the—Derek could heal. And then he’d get his answers.

“Stiles? What—“ Scott instantly took a few steps back as Stiles came up the porch steps. He looked disgusted and sad but overall angered. “Who is that and what happened to him?”

“Derek Hale. Call Deaton,” Stiles replied. He didn't wait for Scott to move from the doorway, merely pushed him aside with the man’s dangling feet. Once inside the rest of his pack made the same motions as Scott, only they fled the furniture giving Stiles free choice of where to set the omega down. He chose the old couch.

After making sure the omega was comfortable, as comfortable as he could really be at the moment, Stiles stepped back and took a long look at him. The only remnants of his shirts was the particles stuck to his skin by dried blood, his pants were somewhat intact but for the gouges. His skin was cut up so bad Stiles could see the white tips of bone in several places. The omega’s face was handsome, a little young, his black hair was spiked every direction with what he assumed— _hoped_ —was blood. The poor thing.

“Stiles, why did you just lay a dead omega on the couch?” Jackson asked. He folded his arms across his chest and huffed, clearly not impressed.

“We all know he isn't dead jackass,” Stiles replied. Jackson scoffed but looked away when ruby eyes were flashed his way. “I found him a little ways outside the territory. He was alone.”

“Deaton’s on his way,” Scott said to the room at large. He then took the time to assess the omega as well. “Stiles, who—“

“I don’t know.”

“Who would do something like this? We can all smell it.” Erica covers her nose as she steps back, blonde locks falling in front of her face as she shields her eyes from the scene before her. She had seen enough with just a glance.

“How old is he?” Lydia looks on in her most poised manner, refusing to shy away from the new reality that’s been thrust into her life. She’s faced shit storm after hell storm with a brave face and she would this one too. Even if it wasn't her storm.

“He said 18, no pack,” Stiles says back. He doesn't want to look like a beta next to Lydia so he steals his spine and looks on with a pained expression, impatiently waiting for Deaton to burst through his front door.

 _I LIKE USING LINE BREAKS_

Deaton’s come and gone, ripped the collar from the omega’s neck and stitched up his wounds as best he could. Now it was all up to the little omega to recover, to heal. Which, easier said then done. It was nearly a week later that he finally cracked open his eyes to see a wide eyed beta with curly hair.

“He’s up!” He yelled. Derek wanted to cover his ears, the noise was too loud, thrummed in his head on repeat, but again his limbs did not comply.

It was a sudden rush after that. Wolves, 8 of them, rushed the room, all followed by their alpha whom they parted like the sea for. He was the same one who’d picked Derek up before.

“I never did introduce myself to you before. My name is Stiles Stilinski, I’m the alpha here in Beacon Hills. These are my Betas, Scott, Isaac, Jackson, Allison, Lydia, Boyd, Erica, and Danny. How are you feeling?” Stiles stood up straight, trying to make a very alpha impression but he felt like he was only scaring the poor thing more.

“Fine.”

“Good, do you think you could eat something?”

Derek had heard a question similar to that millions of times before. ‘Can ya eat this?’ followed by ‘Yeah, all of it ya little bitch.’ He knew the routine by now.

“Yes sir,” he replied. Stiles cocked his head to the side in confusion to the formality before shrugging it off and grabbing the plate from Scott.

“Here.” Stiles handed the plate to Derek who could barely prop himself up on the pillows to eat it. The shocked expression told him everything Stiles needed to know. Derek never thought he’d actually get food. That or he thought he’d be getting something else—and that was not a train of thought Stiles wanted to pursue at the moment.

“It’s just some eggs and ham. Should be easy on your stomach. No grease or butter. Eat up.”

Derek eyed the food and then each wolf individually, as if waiting for one of them to snatch the plate away just before he could get a bite. Stiles was not blind to the action.

“Everyone, move back a step or two, give Der here some room,” Stiles ordered.

Everyone did and after giving them a few more seconds Derek stuck the fork into a few bits of egg and waited a beat before shoving it into his mouth again and again, barely taking the time to chew let alone swallow. Stiles had a brief moment of wondering if he would get sick before writing it off. The poor thing probably hadn't had a decent meal in forever. He wouldn't be the one to get between a hungry wolf and its food.

Seconds later the plate was empty and the fork discarded. “Thank you, Alpha,” Derek said. He moved to rise from the couch before Erica pushed him back down.

“Don’t even think about. You’re sitting there. Here, Isaac.” She took the plate gently from Derek and thrust it at Isaac who grumbled his way to the kitchen to wash it.

“Betas shouldn't do that,” Derek said. He looked confused.

“Do what? Wash dishes? Stiles makes all of us,” Scott said with a light laugh only to realize Derek had been serious.

Derek shook his head at the beta. “But they shouldn't. That’s the work for an omega.”

It was at that moment it all clicked for Stiles. Derek was an omega and his previous pack and taught him to be a slave. Forced him to do whatever they said. Made him believe in all their petty lies and Derek was probably young when he was with them. He was probably raised by them, which spoke volumes to Derek’s mental state now.

“We’ll discuss more tomorrow. It’s late, why don’t we all sleep a little longer?” Stiles said. It was formed as a question but said as a statement. One by one each beta and their mate climbed the stairs together, heading left or right at the top. Derek watched them all go before looking back over at Stiles who still stood in front of him.

“Derek, that couch can’t be comfortable right? We have a guest room, would you like to sleep there?”

Truthfully, Derek had no idea how to answer this question. Was it a simple yes or no? Was he supposed to take the offer and sleep in the guest room or say no, he wanted to sleep with the alpha. Zayne liked to play this game a lot. Ask questions with set answers to see if the stupid omega could guess it right. Derek really didn't want to be wrong.

So he went with Zayne’s favorite. “Could I sleep with you?”

Stiles was floored to say the least. He expected Derek to take the room offered. He should have known really, he’d already figured out what his pack had done to him, could still smell the stench inside even though it was weeks old. It was probably hard wired into Derek by now what he was expected to do and say.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea right now. What your pack taught you, that’s not the way my pack works. I think you should take the guest room for tonight.” 

Derek simply nods. If Stiles declined his offer then surely it was safe to take the guest room.

It takes a few extra minutes to help Derek up the stairs and to the guest room located next to his room, but it happens eventually and when Derek sees the room he’s at a complete loss for words.

“I can sleep here?” Derek asks. Stiles has a hard time covering his smile.

“Yeah, you can sleep here and in the morning we’ll figure this mess out okay? Good night Derek Hale.”

Stiles closes the door to a whispered, “Good night Alpha Stilinski,” and he doesn't even try to stop the smile from brightening his face. He’s already seeing the future and it involves a cute little omega.

 


	2. Breakfast Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter of Breakfast talk and Deaton coming over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's really short but it's better than nothing right? Warning, the next chapter will have a flash back to Derek's past, specifically a very sexually abusive scene.

Derek awoke to muffled noise and curiosity. He vaguely remembered someone telling him ‘curiosity killed the cat’ but doesn’t remember who told him or when. The warning had done little over the years to squash his curiosity, nothing ever worked and eventually, he simply gave up trying. Pain was better than not knowing.

He carefully peeled back the covers and slid from the warm bed; his bare feet hit the plush carpeting and he dug his toes into it. This was nice. Waking up from a full night’s sleep uninterrupted. If he managed to play his cards right and stay with this pack, he’d love to have more mornings like this.

The noise downstairs stopped for a moment and that only fueled Derek’s curiosity more. What could they possibly be doing down there? He slid the door open as quietly as possible, even though he knew the pack could hear his heartbeat, knew he was awake and moving about. He took the steps slow and quietly, knew his previous alpha hated when he made noise and was set to use all rules and cautions on Stiles as well. If Zayne or Kate hated it, Stiles hated it to.

When he entered the living room and found it empty he went to the kitchen. There was a large dining table set to the farthest left side and a large island in the middle of the black and white tiled floor. The pack was all settled at the table, quietly watching him, forks halfway to their mouths which stood open with mashed food for Scott.

“Good morning, Derek,” Stiles says happily. He continues eating, almost looking regal and calm at this spot at the end of the table. Scott sad next to Allison who was next to Isaac and then Danny on the farthest side. Lydia, Jackson, Boyd and Erica on the other. They resumed eating when Derek simply stared at them longer.

“Dude, just take a seat,” Jackson points to the farthest end where an extra seat had been added with a plate and everything. Derek just stares on for a moment before answering.

“Omega’s don’t sit at the table,” he replied in a whisper. The table heard and they again stopped what they were saying and doing to stare at Derek.

“From today on you sit at the table with the rest of the pack for all meals,” Stiles points his fork first at Derek then at the extra chair with a stern alpha look. When Derek makes no move to sit down Stiles flashes ruby eyes at him. It takes Derek seconds to get to the chair and sit. Stiles almost feels bad about pulling rank like that. Almost.

“We were just discussing the schedule for today. Deaton will be here in the next hour for the next check up to see how you shift, Derek. Lydia and Jackson have a date tonight for which they will be staying at a hotel.” Stiles pauses to stare at them both sternly. “Allison and Scott have dinner with the Argents and Isaac, Danny, Boyd and Erica are on territory duty tonight. The rest of the day is free for anything else. Is there anything I missed?”

Derek wants to ask a question but isn’t sure how it works in this pack. Is he allowed? Does he need to raise his hand first or suck the alpha off? Zayne liked the later.

“May I ask a question?” Derek chose to say instead. When Stiles nods he continues. “What are my duties?”

Stiles shows that sad expression again and Derek doesn’t know how he’s supposed to interpret it. Zayne or Kate or Gerard certainly never made that face.

“We’ll discuss that during Deaton’s visit,” Stiles replied sadly. He sighs and scrubs a hand through his hair, already dreading the upcoming talk. He’d have to ask Derek about his previous pack; what they did to him and what they told him. He’s so not looking forward to that conversation.

“Okay, Alpha.” Derek nodded his head. His plate was still sitting in front of him, void of any food. Derek made no move to fill it.

“One; don’t call me alpha. Its Stiles, remember? Two; grab some food. I want you to eat as much as you want.”

Derek nodded at his first command but looked on questioningly at the second. Omegas were not allowed to eat at the table, let alone before the beta’s finished. Besides, he never ate breakfast. Well, did semen count?

“That’s against the rules,” Derek said. He looks down at the steaming bacon and piled high eggs circled by crispy toast and two pitchers of juice. Oh did he want to eat all of it. So badly. But he would not risk screwing up here. He couldn’t be beaten again and thrown away. He liked this pack, even if they didn’t know how to be one.

“Not in this pack, Derek. Here, you eat when you’re hungry, grab a drink when you’re thirsty. If you want something you get it. There is no need to ask for it. Your old pack, they left you,” and yeah, Stiles winced at the hurt look that crossed Derek’s face then. “But I welcome you here with open arms. And this is the way my pack does things.”

Derek can only nod before a knock sounds at the door.

“It’s Deaton,” Scott said as the stood to answer it. The pack stood at once, all filtering into the living room, Derek following behind Stiles. That was a question all on its own. Why did the alpha walk behind his betas? That made no sense. He was alpha. Derek shook his head. If he wants to stay here he had better learn their ways quickly.

“Hey, Doc,” Erica said casually. She slung an arm over the doctor’s shoulders though he quickly shrugged it off.

“Erica Reyes,” he replied. “Where is he? Ah, Derek. How are you feeling?”

Derek looked to Stiles for confirmation to talk and things got awkward as they stared at each other. Stiles has no clue why he’s looking at him and therefore has no idea what he’s supposed to do.

“Stiles, I do believe Derek is waiting for your permission to talk,” Deaton said. He waves a hand towards Derek who still stares hazel eyes at him. They blinked at each other before Stiles started flailing his arms around erratically.

“Oh, no, Der. You can talk, um, just open your mouth, ya know. Go ahead. Talk. Feel free. Like now. Just uh, talk. To Deaton. It’s totally a thing you’re allowed to do. No waiting. Just yeah, shutting up now.” Stiles knew he was rambling, much like he did in his younger days. Knew he was saying words that didn’t need to be said. Old habits die hard.

“Um, okay. Yes, I’m feeling find Doctor Deaton.” Derek is talking to him but can’t stop staring at Stiles who can’t stop flailing his arms looking around giddily.

“Good good. Just ignore him, he has problems. Many of them,” Deaton says seriously. Stiles scoffs at him.

“Rude,” Stiles replies.

“Anyway, Derek, why don’t you take a seat on the couch here and we’ll begin?”

“Yes, Doctor Deaton.”

 


	3. One Little Flashback

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek is talking to Deaton when he has a flashback to his time with the Argent Pack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Here lies some torture, rape, just horrific. Detailed. You have been warned. It's really just a short rape scene so, again, warned.

It seemed only fitting that not long after Deaton started his checkup Derek freaked out. Deaton had been trying to put a needle into his forearm to draw a blood sample but the moment Derek saw it he had whined high in his throat and started shaking. Stiles thought, for all the good that did him, that should he flash his alpha eyes at the omega, maybe he’d calm down. Shit storm that did to help.

Derek had looked slapped in the face at the ruby eyes his way and started a chant of “sorry alpha, I’m so sorry.”

Stiles didn't know how the hell to placate him after that. He tried placing a hand on his shoulder but was rewarded by a strong flinch back and louder sobbing. The pack, feeling just as distraught, could only stand back and watch.

“Derek, listen to me. It’s going to be okay, I’m not punishing you,” Stiles said. Little help it did. Derek still shook, still murmured apologies, and still looked like a kicked puppy who knew that the next kick was coming just not when. And oh, did that hurt Stiles’s heart.

“I’m so sorry Alpha, I don’t know what I did but I’m sorry. Please, I can be a good boy. Just not the needles anymore,” Derek said as he gasped to breath in air. Stiles had no idea what exactly Derek had gone through but it must have been bad if the poor boy couldn’t even look at a needle without this reaction.

“I’m not angry Derek. Derek? Look at me,” Stiles ordered. Derek had no choice but to obey the alpha. “You will stop crying. We will not hurt you like that damned pack of yours. Nod if you understand.”

Derek nodded his head, still sniffling through his now stuffy nose.

“Good, Deaton here, he has to take some blood to run a few tests. It won’t last long and this isn’t a punishment.”

“Yes, Alpha,” Derek said. He took in long breaths, tried to calm himself further so that the doctor could do his job but it was so hard. How often had his previous pack done these sorts of things to him before he knew the whole routine by heart? He still remembers the pain he felt as each nail struck through his skin? Pierced the bones and stuck? And now Stiles would do the same thing? What was so different this time than all the others?

Derek held his breath as Deaton got closer. He resolved to take this punishment---no Stiles said it was not a punishment---like the man he was. Granted he was young yet, but he wouldn’t show his alpha any less of a man then he’d seen already. He’d sit still, take it, and then when he was alone most likely shake and tremble until he was too exhausted to stay awake.

“Hey, Der, look at me.” Stiles took Derek’s face in both his hands and turned his face towards him. He looked into hazel eyes, wait, somewhat hazel eyes? Man, how did Stiles describe that color? Hazel and blue and green and every color under the sun but black? Is there a name for a color like that? Rainbow isn't it by a far reach but it was the closest he could get to that many colors.

“Stiles, were you going to say something?” Scott asked from the other side of the room. It was often that Stiles got distracted by any number of things and Scott just as often, brought him back from the crevices of his own head where Stiles would reside while in deep thought.

“What? Oh, oh yeah. So, Der, look at me. I’m not going to let anything, one, hurt you. Believe me.” He let go of Derek’s face with a shit eating grin on his face as he backed away. He motioned with his eyes somewhere to Derek’s right and when he followed Stile’s gaze, found Deaton with a vial of blood and a similar, if toned down, smile on his face.

“See, that wasn't so bad now was it Derek? Didn't feel a thing I bet.” Deaton flicked the vial twice before he set it inside a baggie and then set that in his black bag. Derek looked on confused and slightly astounded.

“It didn't hurt? Why not?” Derek asked. What was the point of a punishment if it didn't hurt? That didn't make any sense.

“I told you that I wouldn't hurt you. It wasn't a punishment remember?” Stiles stood back with the rest of his pack.

“Let’s move on shall we?” Deaton asked as he pulled a chair closer to Derek. “I think of the whole ordeal, this part is going to be the hardest. Derek, I need you to tell me what sort of things your pack did to you.”

Derek knew a question like this would come sooner or later. This new pack was terrible at dealing with omega’s and they’d need some ideas at some point right? He looked down at the floor, fearing telling them anything too gruesome least they feel compelled to try it out.

“I…” Derek couldn’t bring himself to answer the question. What part of his life wasn't gruesome and horrid? What punishment hurt him the least? The whip or the chains (both laced with wolfsbane)?

“Doc, let’s try an easier question. What was the name of your Alpha?” Isaac said from the corner. He had tucked against Danny during Derek’s outburst and simply stayed there. Seriously, this wasn't going to be pretty and he’d need Danny to get through this. His own father had been a beast to deal with but Isaac couldn’t even begin to imagine the horror’s Derek went through with an entire pack beating down on him.

“Kate and Zayne. There was also the retired alpha Gerard.” Derek still refused to look up but he didn’t need to see Allison stiffen in surprise because they all heard her gasp.

“Allison? You know them?” Stiles guessed. It was expected when Allison nodded.

“Kate Argent is my aunt. She left on her own after my mother and father passed away when I was little. I haven’t seen or heard from her since. To be honest I thought she’d died a few years ago.”

Stiles nodded in understanding but dang, harsh.

“What about this Zayne dude? Know him?”

“Never heard of him. No relation. Must be Kate’s mate,” Allison replied. Stiles had hoped for a better answer but seeing as that was all he’d get, he turned his attention back to Derek.

“What did they look like? Can you give us a description?”

“Kate’s tall. She has brown hair, brown eyes. Zayne has blond hair and green eyes. He’s taller than her. They’re both skinny, but have a lot of muscle…” Derek can’t seem to think of much else so Stiles asked another question.

“How big is their pack?”

“Um, eight or so Beta’s. I was the only omega.”

“Were they allowed to hurt you like Kate and Zayne?”

Derek sucked in a deep breath but it came out shaky and quick. “Yes.” Stiles had a hard time trying to bite back the growl rising in his throat and the fangs inching to drop from his gums.

“How did they hurt you?”

“They used things.” Derek can’t bring himself to do more than whisper. “They burned me with a cattle prod, cut me with anything they had. Kate once beat me with her heels. Zayne put a muzzle on me and tied my feet together before letting the pack attack me---“ Derek got cut off by a long, deep growl. Stiles couldn’t hold it back any longer.

This was pure torture they were putting Derek through. Letting at least eight beta’s attack him when he couldn’t fight back?! No!

Deaton had a moment to sigh, “Stupid” before Derek shot from his spot on the table to Stiles who snarled and growled alternatively with fangs dropped and claws extended. He proceeded to lick at Stiles’ teeth, whined and tried to cuddle into Stiles’ chest.

The pack didn’t know what to do from there. Should they try to intervene or let things play out? Should they try to pull Derek from the room or Stiles? They chose neither. Deaton, however, chose to say something.

“Stiles, Derek is upset. You’re causing that. Calm down.”

The growling continued for a few more seconds until Stiles’ subconscious was able to comprehend what Deaton had said. He slowly closed his mouth, fangs already put away. Derek continued to lick at his closed lips afterwards and then to his chin and neck.

Stiles couldn’t for the life of him understand what was going on. He’d been listening to Derek’s story about something and then said person was licking him all over in front of his pack. Well, that really wasn’t a down side when you looked at the man now was it.

“Stiles, perhaps you should escort yourself from the premises until we’ve finished?” Deaton really didn’t pose that to be a question.

“But I’m the alpha, I want to know.”

Stile’s protest fell on deaf ears. Even his pack wasn’t going to stick up for him on this one.

“Fine, jerks.” Stiles turned to leave when it struck him that there was still a lot of personal space invasion and wet tongue action going on. “Uh, hey Der, you can stop that now. Feeling all myself so uh, yeah, Derek, you can---Holy shit, don’t stop,” Stiles said eagerly. Derek had licked the junction where Stiles’ shoulder met his neck and yeah, that was wonderfully delicious.

“Stiles! Out now!” Deaton yelled. And okay, that was only mildly terrifying considering Deaton almost never raised his voice.

Stiles couldn’t scurry from the room fast enough. Derek didn’t know whether to follow or sit.

“Derek, I need you to recall a few more things for me before I go. Do you remember any of your packmate’s names?”

Derek tried to recall their names, then their faces but the moment one flashed across his mind he was lost in the memory.

 *****************************************************************************************

“Hey, Leroy, let me take his mouth,” the voice behind him said. There was one last deep thrust, sending Derek forward on the dick in front of him before the one behind him popped out with a lewd sound. Derek was pushed off the one in his mouth and for the briefest of moments he rejoiced in the empty feeling. This had been going on for hours now and he wasn’t sure how much more he could take.

“Would the two of you hurry up, when is it our turn?”

“Shut it Cooper, top betas first.”

Derek almost howled when another cock was thrust into him from behind. It was so sudden he didn’t have the time to mentally prepare for the pain of being stretched open again. He thought he couldn’t get any wider.

It was seconds after that when Dante gripped his face and squeezed, making Derek split his lips to take the cock in his mouth. It tasted horrid. There was blood, surely Derek’s, and pre-cum as well as the urine he’d put inside earlier. Derek wanted to gag but had no time as it went deeper and deeper into his throat.

“You’re being such a good boy. Now, take it deeper,” Dante said as he pushed his groin against Derek’s face. The pubs tickled his nose but he couldn’t sneeze, couldn’t even breathe from the intrusion that blocked his air way. Both men had their knots already and both went deep, knotting Derek. The one in his mouth stuck behind his teeth, keeping it down Derek’s throat to the point of asphyxiation.

“Damn, I’m gonna cum,” Dante huffed against Derek’s ear as he came, spurting hot seed into Derek’s bowels as far as his eight inch dick could, his knot keeping it there.

“Hell yeah!” Leroy nearly screamed. Derek could feel the semen as it streamed down his throat and he had to swallow.

Leroy and Dante pulled out nearly two minutes later and Derek began coughing until he passed out.

 ******************************************************************************************

Derek seemed to be in some sort of flash back. He sat with glassy eyes and a relaxed posture. Honestly Deaton didn’t know if he should try to snap Derek back or let the scene he was probably witnessing now play out.

He chose to wake him. “Derek? Derek Hale?” Deaton put a hand on Derek’s shoulder and that seemed to do the trick. With a jerk Derek pulled away and stared. First at Deaton, then at the pack in front of him. His eyes still seemed glossed over when he moved toward Scott.

Scott watched as Derek made his way over, his legs were shaking like crazy until he eventually dropped to his knees right in front of him. It scared Scott out of his skin when Derek reached his hands for Scott’s fly and began unzipping it.

“Whoa man! I uh, no. No.” Scott shook his head almost comically back and forth, palms facing Derek as he back peddled hard into the wall. “Dude, I’m not. Why?”

It took a few seconds after that but eventually Derek’s eyes became seeing and he looked from one shocked face to the next until he landed on one particularly disgusted face. He looked ready to throw up from Derek’s display.

_Way to go, you just had to screw up already didn’t you? They’ll punish you. Maybe, maybe I could get away before they do anything? They can’t catch me. I could run. I could flee._

Which was exactly what he did. When the opportunity granted itself Derek dashed for the front door, nearly ripping it off its hinges in his need to get away as fast as possible. He ran as fast as his inhuman human body could, even when Stiles’ voice yelled for him to come back.  


	4. Self-Punishment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek finds a field.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so glad you guys are enjoying this. I'm trying to get this out but I have to write on my iPhone so it takes a while to get out longer chapters. Clearly this isn't one of them. Really short chapter.

Stiles watched Derek burst through the door in a frenzy and take off even when he shouted at Derek to come back. Stiles was torn between running after him and screaming at his pack for apparently chasing him off.

"What the hell did you guys do?" Stiles said as he stomped into the house. Deaton sighed. Of course this would happen. Because really, when had things ever gone smoothly when this pack was involved? 

"Well, I think I'll just leave things to you. I'll be back Thursday to check his progress. I assume you can work things out from here?" Deaton said, as he gathered his supplies from the floor. Stiles would have been shocked at Deaton who was practically running away from things here, but really, it was most definitely not his fault. If he had to blame anyone it would be Scott or Jackson. The two always seemed to get in trouble one way or another. 

"Thanks for coming Dr. D. I appreciate it." Stiles huffed an annoyed breath from his nose and waved Deaton off before he turned to his pack, a glare already on his face. "I don't have time to figure out what you guys did, but think it over, and never do it again. I'm going to find Derek." Stiles left no room for comment or objection before he stormed out the door.

_I LIKE USING LINE BREAKS_

Derek had run farther than he thought he could. The woods had given way a long time ago, opening up to some kind of field and there Derek had crumpled to the ground exhausted. A night of sleep hadn't helped his body heal as much as it should have. Derek could tell his body had been altered thanks to that collar Kate made him wear. He had known that it would the day after it was placed around his neck; when the contraption had stopped his healing and he'd been ever so close to bleeding out on the dead leaves below him.

Derek breathed in deeply. The fresh air stung as it went down his throat and his lungs burned from the use from his run. He knew he hadn't made it very far but his body couldn't handle much. His skin had knit back together from his amazing nights sleep, but the muscle and intestines had been to damaged to heal as quickly. He knew that much. 

"Der!"

Derek couldn't stop his groan. Figures. His new alpha wouldn't let his new toy run away. He'd messed up big time with that Scott person and how much worse had he made it by running away? 

"Derek!" 

Shit. This is why Derek hated life. All he ever seemed to do was screw up again and again which in turn caused punishments again and again. The cycle was growing old.

"Derek! I can smell you. Sort of. Where did you go?" Stiles called. Derek couldn't bring himself to move. His body hurt and really, if he was only going to be hurt why get up any sooner than absolutely necessary? Derek continued to lie in the field, the fresh scent of pine and grass filled his lungs to capacity and burned. His ribs screamed at him to stop, he surely didn't need that much oxygen at one time, but Derek used the pain as his own sort of punishment. He breathed deeper, pushing his body to the limit of pain he could endure. Somehow, he just knew Stiles wouldn't hurt him for running away and he needed to do this for him. For both of them.


	5. A Little Chat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles finds Derek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad so many of you guys like this. I'm so sorry it takes so long for me to get chapters up. Please bear with me and enjoy! Also, for all Dylan fans, I had to add in a fun fact about him. It's pretty easy to spot.

“Derek,” Stiles called. He was almost to the point of frantic yelling when a smidge of black caught his eye. In the center of a field was a black spot, shirt to be specific, and Stiles would gladly bet it was Derek.

Derek knew Stiles would find him eventually. He had hoped that it would take the apparently inexperienced alpha a while longer but he should have known all alphas, even ones as bad as this one, would find him without hassle.

“Yes Alpha?” Derek pulled himself up off the ground quickly, the sharp pain in his side ached from the movement and Derek wished he could do it more.

Really? How messed up was that? He was so ready to be away from the pain that his previous pack caused him, only to miss it and cause the pain himself. Derek almost whimpered at how fucked up he knew he was.

“Der? What happened?” Stiles asked as he plopped down beside Derek in the grass. It was everything but any sort of synonym for graceful. In fact, he sort of knocked into Derek on his way down.

“Nothing,” Derek replied after he righted himself from Stiles’ fall.

“I’m calling bullshit to that. Try again?” Stiles stared at him for a few moments before he began to fidget and pick at the grass around him.

“…it was a flashback. I remembered one time, when I was fairly young.”

Stiles waited. He expected some sort of explanation and when none came he looked at Derek. “Dude, it’s okay. You can tell me. Promise, won’t tell a soul.”

Derek hesitated. How well could he really trust this Stiles person?  Enough to describe the hell he went through without fear that the same wouldn’t happen again? He was relatively sure that fear would never leave so that plan was out.

“It was one of my earliest memories. There were a bunch of them, all taking turns. And it hurt so much. They went on for hours, each one taking a turn. It felt like I was suffocating.” Derek almost whined. He kept his head bowed, avoided looking anywhere near the alpha.

Stiles wished his stomach would settle but this story couldn’t possibly get any better. He had a vague idea of what Derek went through, what the memory must have been about and he really didn’t need any details, thank you very much.

“Der, I’m sorry.” Stiles couldn’t think of anything better to say than that. He was in fact, truly sorry. Sorry that he couldn’t have been there; sorry he couldn’t have saved Derek before all this shit happened; sorry his pack was all douchebags with apparent low self-esteem.

“Why? You weren’t the one that did it.” Derek looked confused, head tilted to the side and all.

“Because you had to go through all of that. While you were a child too.” Stiles paused for a second, the gears in his head whining as they ground together. “Der, what was your first memory?”

“The first one I can remember?” Derek asked. Stiles nodded. “Um, I was really young, I don’t know how old, but I awoke on the hard floor, and I overheard a voice from the other side of a door.”

“What did they say?”

“I’m not completely sure. Something like, ‘we got a new bitch, a young one this time.’ Another one asked the gender and when he heard boy he growled or something.”

Stiles felt sick to his stomach. Did Derek even realize they were probably talking about him?

“Do you know who they were talking about?”

Derek shook his head. “No, I think I fell asleep after that. It’s weird that I can’t remember my childhood right? I always wondered…I remember trying to ask someone but they beat me for it.”

Yeah, Stiles was just going to walk off a little and…There was a sound of gagging and then Stiles leaned away from Derek and wretched into the grass. The bile burned his throat and the smell made Derek a little sick.

It took a moment for the act to end and when it did Stiles whipped at his mouth and tried to swallow spit in order to erase the taste from his mouth. When that didn’t work he decided to head back to the house for something with flavor.

“C’mon Der. Let’s head back. I need Sprite or something.”

“Are you not feeling well?” Derek asked confused. Werewolves didn’t puke for no reason.

“Something like that Derek, something like that,” Stiles mumbled.

Derek hesitated a moment. Stiles’ pack had to hate him now. If he took in their faces from that time, they probably thought he was utterly disgusting. And well, Derek didn’t really disagree.

“Der?” Stiles had walked a ways off before realizing that Derek wasn’t following.

“Is it really okay? I mean, I…I…” Derek couldn’t bring himself to retell his actions to the Alpha. Kate and Zayne always hated when he acted willfully with the betas of the pack. It was perfectly fine if they initiated it, but never Derek. And hadn’t he just done that?

“Of course. No matter what happens you are always welcome here. I’m sure whatever happened isn’t as big a deal as you think it is.”

Derek in no way believed him but really, what were his other choices? Stay out here? Stiles probably wouldn’t let that be an option so…

He followed closely behind Stiles.

_I LIKE USING LINE BREAKS_

The two arrived back to an empty house with lunch setting on the counter in the kitchen. It appeared that Isaac and Danny made them, as the two had the crusts cut from the sides, just the way the two preferred. Stiles personally didn’t care what they did to the bread, the important part of a sandwich was the chicken. And yes, it had to be chicken.

His face lit up when he spotted the preferred meat between the pieces of bread. Derek probably thought he was insane to be this happy over a sandwich but then again, the dude hadn’t gotten to eat regularly. For all Stiles knew Derek was happier than him.

“Oh gawd, chicken dude. There is no other meat.”

Derek had no idea what he was supposed to say to that. So he said nothing. He obediently stood in the corner of the room, the farthest he could get from the table and waited.

Stiles figured Deaton would have slapped him with an iron fist had he seen the scene that played out. Derek stood in the corner silently starring at Stiles who hovered over the table, scarfing down his sandwich without any other thought towards his guest.

There were two sandwiches and he was tempted to eat both before some rational thought entered his ADHD addled brain.

“Oh, OH, Der, this one’s for you. Com’er.” Stiles said through a mouthful of chicken sandwich. Derek looked between Stiles, the food, and the open doorway to the living room. He was waiting for the punch line. Well, the punch anyway.

When nothing came, Derek took a hesitant step forward. Then another and another.

“You’re so skittish. Which, yeah, you have a right to be, I guess.”

Derek didn’t reply, only walked a little closer to the table before he stopped and glanced back at the doorway. After feeling a little more reassured that no one was going to come through, he walked the rest of the way to the table and picked up the sandwich. It was warm and the bread felt a little soggy but it smelled so damn good. He waited a moment longer before he chanced a glance over to Stiles who hardly took a moment to breathe between bites.

He took one. It was the best thing Derek’s ever had. So much better than the breakfast he had…however long ago that was.

Derek finished his sandwich before Stiles did.


	6. One More Flashback

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stress is building and flashback #2 comes along. This one has Gerard and child Derek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter...man this chapter. It's probably not the worst I've ever written in my life but it's a top ten. Anyway, enjoy, sorry I took so long to put up but thanks to those who are actively following the story.

The third day of Derek’s founding played out much the same as the first. He refused to sit with the others at meal times, only obeying when a set of crimson eyes flashed his way and even then he refused to eat until Isaac, the slowest eater of them all, finished his last bite.

To say that Stiles hadn't been a little frustrated would be a lie. A blatant lie. It seemed that for all he could turn a pack of misfit teens into a family he couldn’t integrate a social deprived and wounded wolf into one. Yes, Stiles knew it wouldn't simply happen. He couldn’t find the problem and wave a magic wand at it, it being Derek Hale of course. But in all seriousness he’d hoped that after a few kind words and actions Derek would at least have moved passed some of his reservations. Like sitting at the table instead of hiding in the farthest corner from his pack. Eating without asking.

Sadly, nothing changed in the days after either. While Stiles resigned himself to staying with Derek almost 24/7, he really didn’t think the pack would change their schedules too. Erica and Boyd stayed in more often than not, forgoing their usual date nights of Mondays and Thursdays-Saturdays. Instead the two would sit on the floor in front of the couch, which they insisted Derek occupy, and lean against his legs, one for each calf, and watch movies. The genre’s differed greatly, from rom-com to parodies. Erica had once tried watching a grotesque horror movie but all movies in that genre were thrown out the window when Derek jumped at a torture scene and flew into a full on panic attack.

Isaac and Danny often went out for short intervals. Sometimes it was only to the grocery store, others for a quick movie. They would return shortly after leaving and head to their room for alone time. They didn't push to be with Derek or try to rope him into what they were doing. But Stiles could see the effort they were putting in. They stayed in the house for Derek’s sake, to watch him, protect him and just be there. Their scents were around the house all the time and surely their heartbeats helped calm him.

Lydia was the more subtle one. She didn't come around often, not like she usually did in the first place. Her and Jackson had a room in the pack house like every other couple but they chose to live at home where each could own their own space when it was necessary. Lydia would come traipsing into the house every few days, head upstairs to her room to grab something she’d apparently forgotten, and leave again. The items were often lipstick, a hair brush, socks, or her favorite shirt. Stiles happened to know Lydia didn't own just one of anything even if the two or four looked exactly the same.

Jackson tried to hide it. Tried to be subtle like Lydia to the rest of the pack, but he just didn't have the same lying charm as his girlfriend. He would follow behind Lydia on her visits and stand in the doorway staring at Derek until Lydia returned with her “forgotten” item and held the door open as she flaunted back out. Stiles didn't miss the way his hand slid up and down a ways on the door frame, scenting it.

Allison was blatantly open. She moved into the pack house shortly after Stiles had it built, therefore she was more or less always there. In the mornings she’d crawl out of bed without waking Scott and start breakfast, always making sure Derek’s plate was already made and waiting in its newly appointed spot to the right of Stiles. Scott had wanted to make a fuss of being pushed aside but it never quite reached his lips.

Scott couldn’t quite master being around Derek. He couldn’t be in the same room with him without thinking of the incident not that long ago. He had no idea what was a safe topic and what was off limits. Derek didn't offer to speak first when Scott was in the room and often didn't keep a conversation going beyond answering questions with monosyllabic answers. Still, Scott was a good person and therefore he went a few inches, not yet a mile, to make sure Derek was comfortable.

Stiles, however, would like to think he deserved and A. He talked to Derek regularly, even when no input was made on Derek’s side. He got Derek to eat and found out which foods he favored and requested Allison to make more in those fashions. He often requested Chicken…for Derek’s sake.

Almost a week after finding Derek and bringing him back to the pack house and Stiles was ready to pull his hair out. He’d gotten nowhere with Derek so far and he was quickly finding it hard to fill the ever present silence all by himself. Derek wouldn't utter a word unless to address a direct question and even then it was short and to the point with no detail. Stiles couldn’t handle this much stress; and from one person no less.

“Deaton’s on his way,” Scott said. He sat next to Derek on the couch with Allison and Lydia. Jackson, Isaac and Boyd sat on the other couch and Erica sat on Boyd’s lap. Stiles was too frustrated to sit still and paced the length of the living room in an attempt to burn off his excess energy. It didn't work.

“Is he really or is he going to get four miles away and call and cancel? Again?” Stiles bit out. Sure, he knew it was rude and the pack didn't need him stressing them out further than they already were but he never did have a good filter for his thoughts. He doubted he ever would.

“Stiles, he’ll come today. Besides, Deaton had excellent reasons for cancelling before.” Lydia smoothed out her shirt in a calm manner. She was the picture perfect alpha; one Stiles only ever tried to beat. She may only be a beta but she did what an alpha was supposed to. She was calm in high stressed situations, strategized before doing, researched before planning, and more often than not, knew what to say to whom in order to maintain control in any given situation. Stiles completely understood why he had crushed on her for so long; most of his adolescent years to be specific.

“I know, I know,” Stiles said. “How are you doing Der?” He turned his attention from Lydia to Derek who quickly looked up almost distraught. Of course Derek would feel Stiles’ emotions and enact them tenfold. He was an Omega after all.

“I’m fine,” he replied. Derek refused to make eye contact with anyone, instead focusing on the carpeting and imagining what it would feel like to pull each thread apart with his claws. Yeah, he felt a little high strung. The last time he’d met with Deaton had ended in a disaster. He’d tried to suck Scott off…

Derek closed his eyes tightly for a few seconds, trying to shove the imagery away from his mind. He didn't want to fuck this up again, he had to be on his best behavior. Answer the questions and move on. Don’t freak out. Yeah, number one rule: Don’t freak out.

“You don’t look fine. Der, if you need some more time we can postpone this,” Stiles said as he knelt down to be eye level with Derek who shook his head in reply. “You sure?”

“Yes, Deaton’s already here anyway,” and sure enough the knock on the door signaled his arrival.

“I’ll get it,” Erica informed the room as she bounded from Boyd’s lap. Boyd shook his head in fake exasperation. How his girlfriend loved to mess with the doctor. “Hey Doc!”

“Hello again, Erica.” Deaton said in passing. He entered the house and walked straight over to Derek who couldn’t quite make eye contact with him either. “Derek,” Deaton nodded in greeting.

Derek simply nodded back. The room fell into a not quite comfortable silence while Deaton unpacked things both sharp and dull from his ever present bag. When he turned to Derek he held out papers. They were face down, a decent stack of them, and Derek became anxious to see them.

“What is that?” Stiles asked.

Deaton, the brilliant doctor, replied, “Papers.”

"What’s _on_ the papers? And don’t get sassy with me,” Stiles said indignantly. Deaton smiled at him and then turned his attention to Derek again.

“Derek, these are the profiles of the nearest wolves. I would appreciate if you could go through them and pick out the ones from your pack.” 

Derek felt sick. Bile was already rising in his throat, his stomach flipping over itself in awkward somersaults, and his skin paled. He didn't want to see them again, even if it was only on paper.

“Der, it’s okay. If you can’t do it we’ll just forget it and move on,” Stiles tried to placate.

Deaton shook his head. “We need to know as soon as possible. What they've done is a crime and we can’t allow them to repeat it with someone else.”

Stiles knew he was right. Knew they needed to know in order to stop them from doing the same thing to some other poor, young, innocent child but Derek looked so uncomfortable he couldn’t bear to force him into looking at the pictures.

“It’s okay, I can do it.” Derek reached out his hand and took the papers from Deaton. He took a deep breath in before he flipped the stack over.

The first page had a picture of some man on it, hair tousled and dark, piercings healed into his skin, and his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth. To the right of the pictures, in bold letters, was his name: **Tony T. Eclare**. Derek didn't bother reading the page long bio underneath.

“I don’t know him.”

“Good, I’ll take that one and you look at the next,” Deaton said as he took the top page away. The next page held a gruff looking man, greying hair and golden eyes. He had a scare running down the middle of his face, centered down the length of his nose. **Brandon Taut**. Derek shook his head again.

The next paper had him shivering. The man in the picture was old, yellow teeth that popped out at him in a cruel smirk and eyes that bore holes into him. His hair was already silver and receding to the point he looked more bald than balding.

“Gerard.” Derek couldn’t breathe. Every time he tried to inhale it went in as a gasp as his throat closed tightly. The papers began to shake in his grasp and Deaton had to grab them before Derek could let them scatter across the floor.

“Der, hey, come on. Sync your breathing with mine. In….out….in….out. Der, come on you have to do it with me.” Stiles inhaled multiple times but Derek refused to follow. No, not refuse, he couldn’t. Because he couldn’t hear anything Stiles had said. He was once again in some flash back.

* * *

 

“Yeah, I like this one. Good job Kate. How experienced is he?”

“New.”

“Ooh, then you wouldn't mind if I take the first round would you?”

“Father, I brought him just for you,” The female voice recedes somewhere and the next thing Derek knows is there’s an old man standing in front of him. He tries to sit tall, knows he’s supposed to show the utmost respect to ex-Alphas’.

The man took Derek’s face into one of his large wrinkled hands and twisted it one way before the other, assessing the prized goods he had been brought. The man smirked down at Derek.

“You’re young. We’ll be able to train you right.” The man tilted Derek’s head up to make eye contact and whatever he may have saw in Derek’s eyes brought the smirk out ten times more. “The names Gerard. I’d prefer you call me Master.”

Derek can’t move his head much but he moved it enough to get the quick nod across.

“Good, now on to your first lesson,”

* * *

 

Derek couldn’t breathe. It was simple at first; lick, suck, **never** bite. But this was harder. Opening his throat and keeping from puking was hard and Gerard knew it.

“That’s a good boy, tilt your head back and it’ll go in smoother,” Gerard told him. Derek does as he’s instructed but when the head hit the back of his throat and slid even further down, Derek can’t do it anymore. He’s scared he’ll die and he’s scared of disappointing Gerard but it’s too much and he throws himself back, choking and dribbling bile down his chin. Gerard looks at him before tsk-ing.

“Now, now, Omega. I haven’t cum yet. You should be grateful I only want to do your mouth today. I could release somewhere else.”

Derek had no idea where that place was but he figured it must be worse than his mouth so after inhaling again, he sets back to work.

Ten minutes later Gerard had pushed into Derek’s throat as far as possible while simultaneously squeezing the poor child’s throat to make the entrance tighter. The cum slid down Derek’s throat and he couldn’t even swallow.

* * *

 

Derek doesn't realize he’s crying until he’s snapped back from the flashback and by then Stiles is whipping the tears away furiously and whispering words into the small space between them. He faintly felt the pack around him, some part of each one touching him. And he can’t breathe. It took less than a minute for Derek to break down and lean into Stiles, grasped him tightly; gripping the man’s shirt in clawed fingers. Stiles just continued to sooth him.


	7. One Little Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek realizes something. Stiles almost realizes something. It is NOT the same thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh jeez. This shouldn't have taken so long guys, sorry.

Today had been a long day for the Beacon Hills Pack. The sun had just began to set when the Doctor exited from the pack home; his bag in hand with new vials of blood, the correct pages of the Derek’s pack, and a few skin, spit, and urine samples. What Deaton thought he’d accomplish or find out with those Stiles had no idea. What he knew was that Derek was still freaking out, just more casually. The pack felt compelled to comfort the new Omega and Stiles had doubts it was simply because of the wolf’s status.

Sure, omegas were considered the weakest members in a pack and therefore the pack usually (Derek’s previous one being the damn exception) protects them and generally just cares for them. But something seemed a little off with that description when he took a look back after showing Deaton out.

Allison stood at the back of the couch, her hand placed directly in between Derek’s shoulder blades. Erica, Boyd, Isaac and Danny sitting on various parts of the couch, including the back, in order to touch Derek somehow. Isaac and Danny were talking to themselves with their calves touching Derek’s shoulders. Scott and Lydia sat next to Derek on the couch, arms wrapped around him in Lydia’s case and slightly leaning against the other in Scotts. Jackson was the most surprising. Despite his badass texture the dude had gotten to his knees in front of Derek and held his head in his hands, gently stroking at his nearly smooth checks and shushing him.

What. The. Fuck. Stiles had half a mind to walk away with Deaton and come back when the twilight zone ended. The other half screamed for him to join in.

He did. As he walked in front of the couch and his pack, it was almost amazing the way Scott and Lydia moved away. They simultaneously scooched over on the couch and untangled themselves from Derek who let out a little whimper from the loss of contact and warmth.

Stiles didn’t even need to think about it when he plopped down next to Derek and started running his fingers through the man’s hair. Derek pushed into the contact enthusiastically and Stiles completely forgot what he’d been thinking about.

They stayed that way for some time. Allison was the first to pull away, but between cooking she always came back into the room to rest her hand on Derek’s back and watch the rest of the movie Stiles had insisted they watch. Jackson had long moved from looking at Derek on his knees to sitting on the floor with Derek’s legs as a back rest behind him. Stiles didn’t miss the way he would occasionally rub against Derek’s calves, pretending to stretch and move to become more comfortable.

Stiles had felt this before. When he’d finally managed to subdue his pack into weekly movie nights and living in the pack house. When he had sat on the couch years back and the rest of his friends had piled on top, effectively breaking that couch in the act, and watching the original batman. Now it seemed that much stronger of a feeling. Stiles couldn’t place why or how but the tug of “family” that he felt before was folded ten now. He wanted to question it but Derek had finally calmed, sat back and leaned his weight into Stiles’ side so he decided to question it later, when he’d fail to fall asleep tonight.

* * *

Morning dawned and the pack slept on. They hadn’t stirred from last night, all still piled on or around the couch. Around Derek. Who was currently blinking the sleep from his eyes and holding his breath. Again, new situation that he didn’t know how to deal with. It seemed okay for him to relax and take time for himself in this pack. They had showed such kindness and care towards him Derek had no idea what to do from there. With Kate’s pack, it was mandatory to follow all rules:

_1)_ _Omegas are to serve every member of the pack, no matter the need._  
2) Omegas are never to eat at the table.  
3) Omegas are forbidden from initiating contact.  
4) Omegas are not to eat before any other member.  
5) Omegas are to sleep in the floor; never on a bed.  
6) Rules are subject to change as Alpha sees fit.  
7) Omeg---

Derek opened his eyes wide. The sixth rule he’d always pushed to the side as it tied in with number one. He simply had to follow orders. But if the rules could be changed by the Alpha at any time, that meant this other Alpha, Stiles, could change Derek’s rules from Kate. So, when Stiles told him to eat at the table, or let the beta’s do the work, he was giving Derek a new set of rules, right?

Derek could have punched himself in the face for his stupidity. Of course the older wolf was being kind to him, letting him figure this out on his own instead of rubbing it in his face and punishing him for disobeying the rules. How stupid could he really be? Kate had set him up for success in any pack and he was ruining it quicker than he suspect any other wolf could.

The pack were still snuggled around him, he was still leaning over Stiles, whose arm had been draped across his shoulder at some point, and he’d been tucked up onto the alpha’s chest. He had to find a way out and do something to show Stiles he figured it out…maybe later though. He twisted a bit, just enough to hunch down lower on the couch in order to fit better into Stiles’ side. Stiles didn’t wake but in his sleepy state he pulled his arm tighter around Derek, cooing to go back to sleep and rubbing his thumb over Derek’s scrawny arms. Derek didn’t last long before his eye lids fell and his breathing evened out. The pack slept on.


	8. Wakeup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek wakes first, then the pack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is the shortest chapter of all. Sorry guys. I saw the new comments and knew I needed to get something out but recently I've had chaos in the job department, a new husky pup which requires so much attention, Christmas and New Years prep and my Maltese's new vet needs, I've been so damn busy. I wish I had more time to update this story. Sorry again. But hope you like this little bit of fluff. Enjoy!

Derek really couldn’t sleep long after he woke up the first time so an hour later his eyes fluttered open. The pack were all still draped loosely around him, still touching him somewhere somehow. To his disgust Derek noticed the bottom edge of his shirt was wet and when he looked down, noticed Scotts hair sticking up everywhere from where his head lay on Derek’s side. Great, drool.

He shook his head, tried to forget about the spot altogether, when Stiles stirred under him. Derek froze. His master plan (really just making breakfast for the pack before they awoke) would be utterly ruined should the Alpha wake. Derek held his breath waiting for the inevitable to happen; Stiles to awake or fall back into deep slumber.

Stiles grunted but his breathing evened out easily enough. Now for the hard part. Derek had to find a way out of this…this puppy pile and get to the kitchen without waking anyone. Without waking a bunch of werewolves. Yeah, he didn’t expect much of this plan to work at all.

Step one: Stiles’ arm. Derek was practically lying on his right arm which was squished beneath him, Stiles, and the back of the couch. His left arm was sort of free except for Stiles’ arm which was draped over his shoulders and down the length of his arm. Maybe if he just...slightly raised his arm up and let Stiles’ fall back…YES!

Step two: Move Scotts head off his side. Easy, Scott was essentially dead to the world, all Derek had to do was lift and roll. Unfortunately Jackson had chosen to sleep on the floor in front of his legs so his body became extremely awkward in position as he tried not to move his legs but also wiggle from under Scott.

Really, this should be some Olympic sport. 

Once free of Scott and Stiles came step three. Jackson. He could split his legs and let the man slide back to lean against the couch…that might work. Derek slowly slid his legs apart, watching as the man between them slid further and further back until he was solely leaning against the couch. He then tried to stand only to realize how awkward and difficult it was with his legs spread so wide. Maybe if he just threw one leg over?

This must have looked hilarious had anyone been around to watch. Derek almost kicked Jackson in the head, almost squished Scotts head behind him, almost woke Stiles, and almost fell into said alpha’s crotch. All in the ten seconds he tried to swing his leg up. Either way, every almost didn’t happen and twenty minutes since he woke up Derek was free to stand, stretch, and walk away.

Now to start breakfast.

* * *

 

Ham. Eggs. Bacon. Toast with Raspberry, Orange, or Blackberry jam, and milk. That was what Stiles smelled as he awoke slowly. He blinked a few times to sharpen his vision and was instantly confused. This was not his room and he was way too hot. The bodies pressed against him began to move a bit and Stiles couldn’t move. How most of the pack ended up on top or squishing him he didn’t know.

“Okay guys, up!” Stiles shouted. The pack as a whole was instantly awake, each one dived in separate directions away from their alpha. “Better.”

“What’s with the wakeup call Stilinski?” Jackson mumbled under his breath. Annoyance was usually his first reaction in the mornings.

“Food,” Scott sniffed at the air a few times before almost being carried to the kitchen by his nose which stayed up towards the ceiling. Stiles couldn’t quite bring himself not to laugh at him.

“As Scotty-boy said, food.”

“Your only safe because I smell jam and toast,” Lydia patted his shoulder and flounced off towards the smell, her faithful wolf boyfriend, Jackson, tilting his head with her every step as he followed along behind her.


	9. Breakfast Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek makes breakfast. Isaac proposes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is no excuse. I haven't updated in literally forever and I'm sorry. I love you guys and I feel bad I neglected you so long.

Stiles couldn’t hold back the drool that trailed down his chin. He followed the scent into the kitchen where Derek stood in front of the counter, hands at his sides and a somewhat scared look on his face. Stiles looked over at the table now adorned with plates of food, lots of it. At least two loafs worth of toast stacked like the twin towers in the middle of the table, four plates of eggs around them in a square, meats (ham and bacon) shared an additional four plates set in another square offsetting the eggs, there were three saucers spaced around the table strictly for jams and next to each empty place setting a glass of milk. Someone really outdid themselves here.

“Derek, you really didn't have to do all this,” Stiles said, eyes still plastered to the table in front of him. Lydia didn't miss the way Derek sagged at the lack of praise. He’d probably tried so hard on this and Stiles was telling him he didn't appreciate it. Well, Lydia was never one to be subtle.

She elbowed Stiles in the ribs, hard, earning a squeak from the alpha. “What the heck Lyds?” She glared at him and tipped her head towards Derek who looked now like a kicked puppy.

“Oh, OH! Derek, this is amazing, thanks man,” He smiled from ear to ear when Derek instantly stood tall and maybe he looked a little surprised but it was cute.

“You’re welcome Alp---Stiles,” he replied.

Stiles couldn’t help but smile back and gesture Derek over to the table. He almost tripped over his own feet when Derek actually sat down next to the alpha’s spot without the usual morning battle. And yes, it was a battle, of words, to get Derek to sit and eat without it becoming an order.

“Dude, you are my angel. Never leave us,” Erica grabbed for the plate of meat closest to her, setting it right on top of her empty plate and dug her fingers into it. Derek had observed this packs’ eating habits; how they liked their food (bloody or cooked), how they licked their fingers rather than using napkins, how they chewed as little as possible before swallowing, eager as ever to have it in their bellies.

“I hope it satisfies everyone,” Derek replied. He glanced at the wolves around the table with shyness and a small smile adorning his unusually peaceful face. Stiles liked it very much. The way Derek seemed so much happier, content, and healthier (physiologically anyway).

“Gawd your amazing! Marry me?” Isaac blushed as the words had tumbled from his mouth around the bacon quickly filling it. He coughed in hopes of covering his embarrassment only for Jackson to barge on where he’d hoped to end it.

“Really man? I mean granted he’s a cook but damn. Danny, dude, he’s totally trying to replace you.”

“I heard. Derek are we going to have to compete for him? Cause I’ll never beat you if it’s in the kitchen.”

Isaac sighed a little relived when Danny played along with Jackson’s joke only to feel stupid when of course, Derek didn't get it.

“I’d never. I’m sorry. I don’t…I’m sorry. Sorry. So sorry. Sorry.” Derek avoided eye contact with everyone. He repeated the apologies over and over again with his head down, hunched over like he could protect his most vital organs from being ripped out by the wolves he just offended even though he didn't understand what he’d done that was so wrong. He made breakfast. The Beta’s did that often. On occasion they talked of times even the Alp---Stiles had. So why was it wrong he do it?

“Derek, it’s okay. I was joking. It was just a joke. I know you don’t like Isaac that way and he doesn't you. Don’t get me wrong, we all like you, just not romantically." Danny glanced over quickly at Stiles after that. "You don’t have to apologize for their stupidity,” Danny soothed smiling. Jackson and Isaac echoed ‘hey’ at him but he paid no attention to them, instead focusing on tiding over Derek. “Okay? I’m not really going to fight you and I’m far from mad. I’m sorry I made that joke. We all appreciate the breakfast.” Leave it to Danny to play mother hen.

Stiles cleared his throat, hoping that maybe, should he ramble about today’s necessary errands that the tense atmosphere might dissipate. “Anyway, Derek and I will be heading to Deaton’s today.” Stiles turned his attention to Derek, stuffing a forkful of eggs into his mouth. “It’s the last check up and he’s hoping that we can get you to fully shift today. Although he also said it might be too much at one time so we could settle with a beta shift and in that case you’ll be going back to see him two days from the full moon to try again. If you can fully shift today then we can go ahead and make preparations for the full moon coming up.  We have a bunch of restraining materials in the basement, used when these guys joined but they really don’t need it now. Well, Scotty sometimes but you know.” Stiles opened his mouth to continue rambling when Lydia broke in.

“Stiles, hun, you’re talking far too much. Let’s enjoy breakfast and then you can talk Derek’s ear off when he’s forced to suffer a car ride with you.”  


	10. One Little Talk With Deaton

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for Derek to shift. Well, if he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I updated! -feeling accomplished :)

Derek really should have heeded Lydia’s warning about Stiles and his over sharing mouth. There really wasn't a brain to mouth filter when it came to the young alpha and Derek sort of wishes he had died out in the woods. A little bit. Just a little. What the hell is a Zelda?

“Dude, you still there? Hell~oooo?” Stiles took a hand off the wheel to wave it in front of Derek’s face and promptly reeled his hand back when Derek flinched and almost threw himself at the door. God Stiles had a long way to go with this omega.

“Sorry, you were saying something. I wasn't listening, sorry,” Derek sat up straighter, his eyes were glued to his lap in avoidance of meeting the stare Stiles was surely pointing at him.

“Hey, Der it’s okay. What you went through…I’m not surprised you flinch and you’re tense and ready to bolt at any moment. I understand that perfectly. You don’t have to apologize for anything. I don’t blame you.” Stiles never took his eyes off the road, knowing full well that the words right now were all that were needed. His hunch was proven correct when he sensed Derek relax into his seat.

“So, Call of Duty man. You have got to play it with me and Scotty sometime.”

* * *

 

“It’s good to see you again Derek. Are you experiencing any more lingering pain anywhere?” Deaton smiled at Derek nicely, genuinely looking happy to see the boy. Derek seemed to relax at the calmer atmosphere and Stiles beamed. He felt so happy knowing Derek was happy. God even Stiles could tell he was falling for the damn kid.

“No sir. I’m fine.” Deaton didn't look convinced.

“Alright. Do you think you can shift?” Deaton set down his pen and notepad on the desk beside him and stared intently at Derek who Stiles watched squirm a little in his seat. Somewhere in the back of his mind Stiles wanted to take Derek out of the office, get him away from Deaton, the source of his discomfort.

“I…” Derek begun. When the silence stretched on further than was really comfortable Deaton cleared his throat.

“It’s alright if you’re a little scared. That’s to be expected.” He smiled.

“I actually…um, I don’t…I don’t know how,” Derek whispered out. Stiles almost laughed out loud. Now Derek was making jokes?

“Care to elaborate on that?” Deaton asked. Derek and stared dumbly back at him. “Explain what you mean Derek.”

“Oh, I uh…I was never allowed to shift so I don’t…I've never before and I don’t know how.” The words ripped from Derek’s throat as if the admittance had seared his throat coming out. Stiles wasn't so sure that was far from reality.

Derek looked like the kid whose ice cream dropped on the ground before he could lick it. What horrors had this kid not experienced at the hands of Kate’s pack?! The full moon practically forced the shift, it took real control to keep from going mad at it. Stiles had paid hell for turning teenagers at the time. Teaching them was pure terror, he barely had it down by the time his father retired. And this kid had, what? Controlled it already or…damn it. The suppression collar.

“Did the collar keep you from shifting?” Deaton asked. Well, Stiles felt a little better knowing he was on the same wave length as Deaton. That was a very rare anomaly.

“Yes. It hurt. The wolf would rage all night long, clawing to get out but the collar kept pushing it back and squeezing. It felt like I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move or think. That was when they would let themselves beta shift and…use me,” Derek said. There was a lump in his throat that prevented anything more, and he didn't try to dislodge it. Maybe if he shut up now Stiles would stop looking murderous. It was worth a try.

“You mean they used you when you were already in extreme pain and suffering?!” Stiles yelled. Derek flinched back, too afraid to try comforting Stiles like he had last time.

“I see this is going to be a pattern with you Stiles. Please leave. Why don’t you go get Derek something to eat?”

This time Stiles didn't complain before he nearly ran from the room.

When he made it outside Stiles bee lined for the woods rather than his old blue jeep. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt his baby in his temper tantrum. Which was justly called for, despite what Deaton might say or think.

Really, how much could his little omega suffer? How much pain could he stand? He was here now, still standing, alive, but not quite living after the shit he’d been through. Well, Stiles was changing that. He slashed at tree after tree was he passed them, running off his energy and tearing down nearly seven trees in his anger. _Wait h_ _is?_ _  
_

* * *

When Stiles returned to the office Derek still sat in the office, Stiles could hear his nervous heartbeat, while Deaton stood behind the front counter shuffling papers. He had to wonder if Deaton was actually doing something or simply appearing busy. It brought a small smile on his face before it was whipped away by Deaton’s grim expression.

“Do I want to know?” Stiles asked.

Deaton sighed heavily indicating to Stiles that no, no he did not.

“That suppression collar he wore, it was definitely hunter made. There was new technology in there that even I don’t know what to do with. To compel a werewolf to remain human, that’s, well that’s something isn’t it? Derek doesn’t know how to shift and that means that without him wearing that collar he’ll be as strong as a fully matured omega without the knowledge of control. It’s extremely dangerous. Even if Omegas are weaker by comparison, feral they can be a force to reckon with. I don’t have a plan of action for this Stiles.”

Stiles felt his lungs seize and his blood run cold. If Derek went feral at the full moon, if he killed someone, he’d have to be “put down.” It was the law made by the Human-Werewolf Society when they were outed. He couldn’t let that happen.

“Is there any chance that we could suppress it just for this moon?” Stiles hated the idea in his mind and even more out loud.

“The only thing that could do that is the collar…”

“I don’t want to use that. What if we just…used chains? The basement is equipped to handle werewolves.”

“I’m afraid he might be strong enough to break those. He’s an omega but he has suppressed power from the years of staying human. If he can break through those there is a big possibility that he could injure one of you. Or kill.”

Stiles really hated when Deaton had a point.

Score as of fifteen years:

Deaton: 104                        Stiles: 2

“If we were to put the collar back on him, he’d be suffering the entire time. I can’t put him back through that,” Stiles shook his head frantically, already knowing how this would play out.

“I hate the idea just as much Stiles, but he’s worn it for years, he’s accustomed to this pain. One more night of it won’t kill him and it will give us an entire month to teach him to shift and at least the basics of control. He needs that month.”

“Damn.”

105


	11. One Little Chat With Scott

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek and Scott have a short talk. Bonding moment with a pack mate, awww.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm lazy. I want to read fan fics like no ones business but writing one is a task. A fun one, mind you, but a task none the less and I'm busy setting up my college applications and registration for a vet tech program and this right here, takes up small values of my time. I love that you all read this and love it and I love it even more that you guys leave such awesome comments. Thanks! I will continue writing so please look forward to my updates even though they are few and far between. :) 
> 
> Also, as I did when writing Losing You Hurt...I have made a list of my favorite usernames that have commented or left kudos at the bottom!

The full moon was only days away and Stiles still hadn't told Derek the news about wearing the collar. He was a little hesitant and (if he were being honest) scared to revel the news. How would Derek take it? Would he bare his throat like his other pack made him or fuss and whine? Neither set well with Stiles.

Derek on the other hand, was nearly pulling out his hair. Stiles and Deaton had talked for a few minutes behind the sound proof room Derek had been stuck in. He had no idea what they had said or what was decided and it worried him. How bad was it? He couldn’t shift, or well, didn't know how. Was that bad for this pack? Did they not want a useless wolf like him? Were they going to throw him out like Kate?

His breathing had picked up where he lay in bed and he dug his blunt, human nails into the padding of the bed to center himself. It was the morning after the appointment and Stiles refused to say what the two had talked about. He diverted the question the two times Derek and tried to ask onto other subtle topics, like skating in May or the amount of caffeine in soda. Derek hadn't brought it up again least he had to sit through another hour of lectures on the feline digestive system. Really, the amount of random stuff the man knew confused Derek.

“Hey, I know you’re awake in there. I brought breakfast,” Scott lightly tapped on the door before twisting the knob and giving a gentle push. The door didn't squeak as it opened and Scott didn't exactly smile at him when they made eye contact. He did quickly look away however.

Things between Scott and Derek had been on the rocks at best since the whole fiasco that happened. Scott sometimes sat near Derek with touching at the bare minimum of arms and knees. He often looked everywhere but at Derek directly and spoke as few words as possible. Derek knew he made a mistake that day and just wished Scott would hit him or punish him in some way so that the awkwardness would move on. But Scott never lifted a hand towards him or talked to him enough to give him a verbal lashing.

“Here,” Scott held the plat towards him, fingers barely touching the plate in hopes that Derek won’t accidentally touch his hand. It was a small blow to Derek’s self-esteem but really, how much did he have now anyway?

“Thank you,” he replied before taking the plate. The fork teetered precariously on the edge but didn't fall. Atop the plate were scrambled eggs and three slices of ham. Derek’s stomach couldn’t possibly hold that much and he questioned if Scott wanted him to eat it all.

“Yeah, no prob dude,” Scott turned to leave but when he reached the door he turned. His hand idly scratched at the back of his neck and again the man faced down, eyes locked on the bland carpeting. “I wanted to talk with you actually. That okay?”

Derek somewhat feared saying no. “Yes.”

“Um, well, about that time when you, you know. You don’t like me like that right? It was just how that other pack taught you?”

Derek chewed a small bite of egg before answering. “Yes, it wasn't really training but…I had a flash back that time and that’s what I was doing. I was only vaguely awake when I did that to you.”

Scott nodded his head in understanding, his eyes still trained on the floor. “Okay, one more question. Why did you run? I mean, I figured I scared you when I pushed you away.”

“I was scared, I looked around at all of you and there was mostly shock and disgust but one person, I forget his name, looked at me with such…anger and hatred. I was scared you would all punish me and I thought it would be better to run off and delay it than face it then.” Derek had set the fork down on his plate, the rest of the food no longer looked appealing to him.

“Oh. Jackson. We call him Jackass sometimes. He can be mean a lot but he’s not so bad really. He was the one who knelt down in front of you right?” Scott waited for Derek’s nod. “He’s never been the gentle, show affection type. I mean, he doesn't even get that way with Lydia and he’s dated her for years. Since high school. I just…wanted to make sure that it wasn't all me. I didn't mean to scare you but you scared me too. I’m dating Allison so I don’t…I mean, I’m not even into guys so…” Scott couldn’t quite find a stopping point for his now purposeless rambling and Derek had to stifle a small laugh at the comparison his brain made between the Beta and his Alpha.

“I understand. I don’t blame you or Jackson. Thank you for talking to me.”

Scott felt slapped. The kid (and yes, he was still a kid being only 18) had thanked him for simply talking to him. He’d been ignored for doing far more.

“It’s fine man. Anytime you want to talk just come find me. Anytime you want to listen and not get a word in, find Stiles.” Scott grinned and for the first time Derek returned the gesture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In no particular order:  
> CrazyManiaChick  
> noxflame  
> crystal_garchomp  
> Versipellis  
> Fay_and_Flowers  
> SourwolfandLittleRed (Yes)  
> wolfsbite92  
> Flaremage  
> Ravingwolves  
> inappropriate_happiness  
> catonine  
> winchestersinthe_impala  
> notreallyme  
> feralhamster  
> kamara_Black
> 
> Thanks! This is just my favorite names. I love everyone who reads and leaves kudos or comments so please continue doing so!


	12. Lydia's Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles can't make it upstairs, Lydia can, and Derek gets petted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is literally written for j.luis for demanding (very nicely) for another chapter. ENJOY!

Stiles sighed. He wanted to talk with Derek but every time he managed to work up the courage something deep inside his messed up mind would scream at him all the things wrong with the plan and he’d inevitably end up sitting back down, digging shifted claws into the couch.

There was no way Stiles could put that collar back on Derek and not draw comparisons between this ‘Kate Argent’ and himself. Derek would be forced to go through that pain again and it would be Stile’s fault for not doing something---anything---else. For not having a better plan, for not being a better Alpha that could help to force back Derek’s shift.

“You’re bugging the ever loving hell out of me Stilinski,” Lydia gently blew on her newly wet nails, some vibrant orange color with tiny symbols that Stiles thought might have something to do with magic. “Look, just go up there, knock on the damn door, and tell him.”

Stiles was pretty sure she didn’t understand the level of duress he was under. “I know, I know. Thanks for the pep talk. I just don’t know what to say exactly. ‘Hey Derek, I’m just going to put this super painful hunter’s collar back on you for the night of the full moon so that you can’t shift and kill us all but don’t worry I’ll take it off the morning after,’ I can’t say that!”

“Never said you had to say that much. Look, would you calm the hell down if I told him? I’ll even break it to him gently,” Lydia put the cap back on the tiny bottle of nail polish and stood up. She brushed her skirt out and placed her hands on his hips. Stiles really didn’t want to say yes but at this point what chance did he have at ever making up the stairs much less actually knocking on the door?

“Okay,”

“Magic word?”

“Please? I’ll eternally love you, in fact, this is the reason that I do. Don’t tell Jackass.”

Lydia smiled and sashayed to the stairs, easily taking them one at a time, her stiletto heels clacking on the wooden steps noisily. Stiles had a quick thought that he should carpet them.

Lydia knocked on the door gently calling out, “Hun, it’s Lydia. I’m coming in okay?” She gently pushed open the door revealing a lump almost completely hidden under a black comforter.

Derek stilled for a millisecond before he pushed back the cover and sat up, his back leaning against the wooden headboard.

“Hey Derek, I need to talk with you for a little bit okay? It’s something that Stiles has been trying to say all day, literally, he’s been walking a rut in the floor.”

Derek looked just a little bit scared at that and Lydia quickly went to reassure him. “You see, when Stiles and Deaton were talking while you were in that sound proof room---“ Lydia observed the way Derek perked up a little at the words. “---Well, they were talking about the full moon coming up. Because you’ve never shifted and you aren’t wearing the collar your powers won’t be suppressed and there is a very real chance that you’ll end up hurting one of us, possibly killing someone, or doing the same to a human. Stiles asked if it was possible to just contain you, but Deaton was quite sure that it wouldn’t be a good idea to try,” Lydia said. Her voice was just a touch too gentle and Derek was scared from that alone. Kate had talked gentle sometimes too but it never ended in anything remotely tender.

“I understand. What are you going to do?”

“That’s the bad part. We’ll have to put that collar back on you. Just for the night of the full moon, and then we’ll destroy the damn thing once and for all. But this way it’ll give us a whole month to teach you how to control your shift with an anchor. How do you feel about that?”

Derek wanted to say he hated the idea. That he wanted the collar destroyed now. That he’d rather be put down than wear it again. But he knew that wasn’t the answer she was looking for. “I understand.”

Lydia’s face hardened just he tinniest bit and Derek flinched back unsure if he’d said something wrong.

“I didn’t ask if you understood. I asked how you feel and I want the absolute truth. Don’t sugar coat anything with me,” She gently sat herself on the side of his bed.

“I---I don’t like the idea…” Derek barely spoke more than a whisper to her but Lydia’s hearing was better than anyone gave her credit for. She lifted her hand up and Derek shrunk back quickly, hoping to avoid her wrath. However, he didn’t expect the soft hand that placed itself on his head and scratched gently at his hair. He didn’t mean to push his head into the touch but he did and Lydia seemed to beam at that. She moved her hand over his head and Derek would purr if he knew how.

The gentle movement ended all too soon for Derek but Lydia smiled at him as she headed for the door. When she had a hold on the knob she turned to him. “I’ll be downstairs with Stiles, come down if you want to. I know you don’t like the idea but I promise if there was any other way we wouldn’t be doing it this way,” she closed the door quietly and traipsed back down the stairs.

Stiles was biting his nails down to the bud when she got back. Lydia quickly slapped them away from his mouth and chastised him for doing the act in the first place. To Stiles’ credit he looked chagrined.


	13. The Collar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles growls again, big surprise. Derek's in the collar and Jackson isn't a Jackass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAY a chapter! Everybody cheer.

Stiles waited another few minutes before lifting the heavy collar from the table. It felt like lead in his hands and for a moment he felt a similar weight in his stomach. Again he set the monstrosity down and paced in front of it.

The conflict he held at placing it back around Derek's throat tore at him from the inside out. How could he cause an omega to suffer? Hell, he had no idea how bad the pain was, for all he knew it was comparable to slowly slicing off an arm with a bone saw. Bile stung his throat and his mouth began to water. It had been a few years since Stiles had thrown up. Had been somewhere around the time his mom passed…

He sucked in air and took the collar in hand once again, this time with assured confidence, and walked out of the room. The pack had strolled in one by one for the last half hour, each one heading straight for Derek. They each scented him somehow. Scott pat him on the back; Jackson a lasting nudge on the right shoulder; Allison a gentle hug, Lydia a swipe through his hair; Isaac and Danny a group hug with a quick forehead kiss from Danny who smiled coyly at Isaac afterwards; Erica cuddled next to him on the couch until Boyd showed up when she moved to cuddle him with her feet sitting in Derek's lap. Deaton, being human and all, opted for merely standing near the doorway of the kitchen with his arms folded. Stiles was the last to enter the living room.

The moment Derek spotted the item in his hands he stiffened and everyone in the room heard him swallow. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe deep but he couldn't manage to fill his lungs nearly enough. When he opened his eyes again Stiles had moved closer. In his eyes there was fear, remorse, but most of all guilt. Maybe some adrenaline but mostly guilt.

"Hey, Der it'll be okay. The full moon will be showing soon and you'll only have to wear it for a bit. Not long at all. And I'll be here with you the entire time.” Stiles tried to reassure Derek with a smile but his lips didn't quite make the correct shape.

“I'll be fine Stiles. It's not too bad,” Derek said. He licked his lips quickly, a nervous tick Stiles was well accustomed to.

Lydia grabbed for Derek's hand and squeezed lightly. He didn't squeeze back as Stiles walked over toward him. The collar swung from side to side, a false gentleness to the action.

Derek was a lying liar who lied and he knew it. The collar hurt worse than most of the pain his previous pack had done to him. Every full moon had been filled with wave after wave of torture as his wolf struggled to burst from his skin, clawed at his stomach lining and gnawed on his ribs in every attempt to escape its prison. He'd been through it enough times to know that the pain never changed, never lessened, but each full moon it seemed to intensify. And then his pack would make it worse. Would use him until he couldn't cry any longer, until his eyes dried and his mind was no longer susceptible to his body. Until his emotions numbed and his body stopped trying to fight each intrusion. Until everything blackened.

“Der?” Stiles held the collar loosely in his hands and called out to Derek who seemed to be lost in his own mind. Stiles had a feeling that what he was thinking wasn't anything good.

“Huh? Oh, oh yeah.” Derek tilted his head back to allow stiles to place the collar around his neck but when he did a low growl sounded. This was starting to become a usual thing with Stiles. The growling thing.

Stiles tried to hold it back but really who could blame him? A highly attractive omega was submitting to him. Really he should get a medal for just growling and not claiming.

“Down boy, he's not coming on to you.” Leave it to Lydia to embarrass Stiles like no one else could.

Stiles cleared his throat and swallowed, tamping down on his vocal cords which threatened to vibrate again. Once composed Stiles gently set the collar against the soft skin of Derek’s throat, only gulping a few times to clear the saliva that almost dripped from his lips, and clasped it shut. The metal dinged a few times before tightening itself to fit a little too snugly against Derek’s throat.

Derek tried to sit still. He’d been through the procedure only once before and he’d been too young then to remember the pain now. He knew he’d screamed the first time, yelled until his voice cracked, but he doesn’t remember it clearly enough to be able to brace himself for the repeat performance.

It’s a surprise when electrodes seem to pulse in the collar and another when Derek actually feels the electricity that flows straight into his neck. He’s a step away from screaming and when the voltage escalates he takes that last step, his lips parting to allow his shrill voice its escape route. Derek pitched forward, screaming, hands shifted to claws that scratched and grated against the metal in an attempt to rip it away.

Stiles could barely stand to watch. Derek was so frantic to get the thing off he’d shifted his hands and teeth. As he tried to claw the collar away Derek ripped at flesh too. He could only watch in complete horror as skin was ripped away and blood was splattered across the floor and couch. Stiles was too scared of Derek to move forward and stop the onslaught.

Jackson wasn’t. Not more than a few seconds later Jackson had crouched down in front of Derek, the clawed hands held in each of his own, and a small smile on his face. Derek was panting hard from the exertion and the pain but he wasn’t wolfed out, couldn’t if he tried now. His eyes were dulled by exhaustion and couldn’t properly focus on Jackson’s face but he looked in the general direction and that was enough.

“You’re okay. The pack is right here. We don’t want to hurt you and we’re sorry. Come on man, you’re okay,” he repeated the words over and over until Derek seemed to come back to himself and leaned heavily on Jackson, almost toppling him over from the suddenness of the movement more than from his slight weight.

“I’m going to hate tonight,” Derek whispered into Jackson’s shirt collar.

 


	14. Kate's return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dun, Dun, Dun. Kate....naked...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ENJOY THE KATE. JK HATE HER!!

Stiles was on the verge of panicking and the pack knew it. The uptick in his heart and the speed of his breathing clued them in quickly. They figured he was reacting to Derek's pain.

“Stiles, let's go outside for a minute,” Danny said smiling. He was just as worried about Stiles as he was Derek but clearly his alpha needed him more. Derek sat, somewhat fearfully, watching Stiles as his breathing turned to gasps and his eyes squeezed shut on the tears that clearly threatened to spill out. Danny was more worried that Stiles was reacting more than Derek.

Stiles nodded his head borderline frantically and grasped at Danny's shoulder to lean but neither men moved. Derek gripped Jackson’s shirt tighter, accidentally scrapping blunt nails across his collarbone. Jackson didn’t even move at the pain.

Yes, Jackson used to be an asshole, he would be the first one to admit it. Well, his entire pack would still call him one and as if he had to live up to the name he would often do some douche like things but it was shallow at best. He was different after joining up with the spastic Stiles Stilinski. A pack did wonders for his self-esteem and his anxiety. During high school Jackson was always pressured to be the captain of the lacrosse team and the top jock, but after graduating and being accepted into the pack, Jackson had cleaned up his act. Which is why he could show affection like this. Sure, he never had before but that didn’t mean he couldn’t.

It was a time later that his pack sat down somewhere around Derek in the living room, smiling and joking with each other. Stiles couldn’t bring himself to relax. Despite Derek’s calming smile Stiles could see the amount of pain he was in still etched across his face. While his pack was consoling him in the best way they knew how, by having fun, Stiles couldn’t bring himself to relax in the slightest.

“Stiles, Derek is okay. He’ll be fine, I promise. Let’s take a walk,” Danny said again. He softly maneuvered him toward the door. Derek turned to watch them leave, an almost unnoticeable pout on his lips before Scott nudged him on the shoulder and he refocused on the conversation about pop culture, something he had no idea about.

“So, you took that better than I thought you would,” Danny said. Stiles wiped a hand down his face and sighed.

“Oh yeah, starring shocked and frozen from the other side of the room as Derek rips away at his skin is exactly what a good alpha would do.” There was bitterness and anger in his voice.

“You’re a great alpha. This is just a new experience, you’re learning. Derek doesn’t need a perfect alpha, just a caring one.”

Sometimes Danny was too wise. “I just want to be a good alpha for him. He’s had such a shit life I don’t want him to suffer that anymore. He’s been with us for a few weeks now and he’s already back in that damn collar.”

“But it’s for one night. Derek’s taking it okay now. He’s not doing this alone and neither are you.” Danny grabbed onto Stiles’ shoulder and tugged him back to stop their walking. They hadn’t made it very far but Danny didn’t want to wander too far from the den least Derek need Stiles. “We should head back, Derek might need you as the night wears on.”

Stiles nodded and they headed back. The house was just coming into view when a wolf jumped from the trees beside them, already snarling. Stiles jumped back, pulling Danny along with him.

“Who the hell are you?!” Stiles yelled. The wolf snarled again before shifting back. It was female, naked like the day she was born, long brown hair sweeping down her breasts and Stiles really shouldn’t be looking at her with drool on his chin but really, he’s a teen at heart...and mind.

“Sorry for the interruption. I was chasing a rabbit but it got away and I heard a noise. I guess it was you,” she smiled, rows of perfect pearly whites. Her brown eyes glistening black in the faint moon light. Danny, apparently the only one of the two not affected by boobs, pulled at Stiles’ shirt. Once he had the alpha’s attention he whispered lowly to him. Stiles had to strain to hear.

“That’s Kate. Derek’s alpha.”

Stiles jerked to attention, glaring daggers at her. “You’re Kate Argent. The alpha that abused an omega.” Stiles’ words dripped malice. Kate simply flipped her hair over her shoulder revealing more of her body than Stiles was really comfortable with.

“And you’re Stiles Stilinski, alpha of Beacon Hills, unmated with eight betas all in their early twenties,” Kate smiled a little brighter, a little more feral, before she took a step toward them. Stiles and Danny stepped back.

“What are you doing here? You’re the ones who left Derek out in the forest to die you can’t honestly want him back.” Danny spat at her. She laughed, a tad maniacally, and sashayed forward. Neither of the boys stepped back this time.

“Of course I don’t want that thing back. You haven’t the slightest idea how used it is. You see, I didn’t come here for him,” Kate practically sneered. And instantly Stiles lost all attraction to her. Her personality was too ‘Kate’ for him.

“Then why are you in my territory? If you knew this wasn’t open land why did you enter?”

“Hun, you really think we could simply let that slut live? He was supposed to die out there. He’s the proof that could get us killed.”

Stiles, somewhere in the back of his mind, knew that this occurrence would happen. Kate would come back to kill Derek simply because she’d be facing the death sentence for his abuse. There were rules for werewolves. Not many but some and enslavement, abuse, child abuse, rape were all against them, just to name a few.

“Dear,” Stiles replied mock sweetly, “you really think you’re going to get near him again? I’ll kill you first.” Kate scoffed at him.

“You are so stupid. Really. Did you think I came alone? I’m stalling the strongest member, the alpha, while my pack, which is much stronger than yours, kills them off,” she giggled.

Stiles could scream for how stupid he was. Of course she hadn’t come alone. Of course she’s the distraction.

“Oh, and btw, we’ll be sure to make his death…nice and slow…brutal even,” she dodged back when Stiles surged forward to strike at her. She was fast and nimble, twisting away from every swipe of claws.

“Alpha, Stiles! We really don’t have the time to take her out. We need to get to Derek!” Danny yelled out. Stiles wanted nothing more than to kill her now, leave her in a lake of her own blood, but Danny was right. At the moment they needed to get to Derek and the rest of the pack.

“Better hurry, alpha. Oh, and thank you for making this so easy. A walk in the woods on a full moon, haven’t had an easier job yet,” Kate mocked. Stiles tried to ignore her, focus his mind on running. They weren’t far from the house but they needed to be there twenty minutes ago.

 


	15. The Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...and it burns, burns, burns, the ring of fire, the ring of fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry not sorry for this chapter. Or the summary. Or this story in gen. You guys wanted the next chapter. Now you have to deal with this cliff hanger until I get the next one out. Muwahahahahaha.

Smoke. God there was smoke. Stiles, being the the sarcastic mess he was, had the thought that maybe the pack burnt the popcorn. He knew better. There was too much smoke for it to be something as domestic as that.

The den was set ablaze. As Danny and Stiles came nearer and nearer all they could see was the black shape of the house licked with flames of orange and red as they grew. The fire blazed into the night sky, seemingly lighting it up as well.

Stiles slid to a stop a safe distance away, eyes glued to the sight in front of him. Danny was screaming now. Screaming for Isaac mostly but other names were included as he kept running. Stiles didn’t have the mind set to reach out a hand and grab him and so Danny kept running, up the porch steps and through the busted down door.

Watching Danny run inside had ignited his alpha role and he threw himself down to the ground and sprinted for all he was worth inside and after Danny. The heat burned all around him, flames nicking at his arms and face. Wood creaked as it was weakened and beyond the living room Stiles could hear as beams from the ceiling fell. Danny was already tearing through the house, flames preventing Stiles from following.

“Danny! Come back!” Stiles yelled from the stairs.

“They’re up here! Danny called back. Stiles only had a second of debating before an image of Derek, broken and scared, appeared in his mind and he was climbing the crumbling stairs after Danny.

“In here!”

Stiles bedroom. Of course they’d be there. Inside, Stiles saw the mess Kate’s pack had left. His pack were all knocked unconscious, their skin torn and shredded by claws and teeth alike. Erica seemed the best off, only a trickle of blood from the back of her head staining her blonde hair. The worst off was Isaac. God the blood that pooled around him.

“Isaac! Isaac! Come on baby,” Danny lightly tapped at his shoulder, his hand coming back bloody. “Oh god, Stiles!”

Stiles could only stare shell shocked. This was the pack he’d spent years training, developing, and Kate’s had taken them out in five minutes tops. They were as good as dead if Stiles didn’t do something right now.

“Danny, we have to get everyone out now!” Stiles yelled over the roar of the flames. Danny wasted no time in grabbing Isaac carefully and bounding outside. Stiles grabbed Jackson and Allison, one draped over each shoulder. His eyes were still blazing red from earlier, his alpha power pushing for him to save his pack. He could have carried the rest had he not had to worry about making their injuries worse. Most were already healing but some, the ones Stiles supposes were from Zayne, stayed longer.

Danny rushed back in and quickly grabbed Erica while Stiles rushed down the stairs. Bursting into the cool night air felt great but Stiles hardly had the time to enjoy it before he was forced to run back into the burning building to grab the others. Boyd and Lydia were thrown over his shoulders and he was halfway to the drop off point when Danny yelled after him.

“Derek isn’t in here!” Stiles felt his blood run cold, or stop altogether, as he stood there. Derek wasn’t inside? Did ‘they’ take him?

“Everyone’s out? And Derek isn’t inside, you checked everywhere?” Stiles grabbed at Danny’s shoulders nearly shaking him in his hysterics. “Everywhere everywhere?”

Danny nodded his head, looking both worried and scared. When Stiles released him Danny ran over to sit beside Isaac. There were already sirens in the distance and Stiles wanted to double check Danny’s claims but he knew the building would collapse at any minute and he couldn’t really risk his life in a fire. His pack needed him and if Danny said Derek wasn’t in there then there was a 99% chance that he wasn’t. Which meant that Kate had taken him. God Stiles just...

He barely made it two steps away from his pack before his non-existant dinner came up. It was mostly stomach acid which burned his throat and tasted just awful. Stiles couldn’t believe how often he’d thrown up recently. Werewolves had too good of an immune system to be sick this often.

“Stiles, we’ll find him. I promise, we will not stop looking ‘til we find Derek.”

“Or his body,” Stiles hated admitting it himself, had even whispered it in an attempt to keep it from becoming a serious thought, however that logic worked, but he refused to let that thought stay longer than the time it took to mutter it. As the squad cars pulled up, Stiles took a deep breath and walked forward.

 

 


	16. Little Bit of Torture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek is taken by Kate and Zayne. OH NO!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #sorrynotsorry #feels
> 
> IMPORTANT EDIT/ALTERATION: I am from here on making the story present tense instead of past tense. It's easier for me to write. Sorry if that bothers anyone, I'll eventually rewrite the first chapters to be this way as well. Enjoy this chapter!

There is the sound of rough breathing. Exhale. Inhale with a wheeze. Lungs are burning. Exhale. Wheezing. Inhale. Not enough air. Coughing. 

"Derek, sweetie, try not to cough all over me," the voice is eerily familiar and Derek shudders from the memories it brings. There are hands holding him down, a mouth biting at his neck, claws scraping at his sides, peeling away flesh strips at a time. There’s a man on top of him, a cruel smirk across his face as he licks at Derek’s lips.

“Focus,” the man slaps Derek across the face hard enough to cause his head to fly to the side and hit the wire fence he’s restrained against. His wrists and ankles are tied with bob wire, his throat restrained by some thin metal that cuts into his throat and he’s pretty sure that’s why he’s wheezing. Why he can’t get the amount of air his lungs are demanding.

“Is it awake yet?” Derek opens his eyes finally, knows he has to face this even though he really wishes he didn’t have to. Dante and Zayne stand in front of him, smirks on both their faces and a gleam in their eyes that make him shiver.

“Yeah, so shall we officially begin? Kate did say we could start without her,” Zayne turns slowly, facing a table behind him and Derek finds himself trying to see what it holds. He wants to know what torture he’ll be subjected to rather than wait for the surprise but he can’t.

There’s chuckling from Dante as Zayne picks something up, turning slowly for some weird added effect before tilting the butchers’ knife, no doubt laced with wolfsbane, reflecting the dim lighting back into Derek’s eyes. He wants to flinch and turn away but he knows from previous experience that the metal wrapped around his throat would cut it open and his werewolf powers would only heal over it. When they were ready to move him he’d have to rip the thin metal from under however many layers of skin it had cut under and yeah, Derek remembers that time clearly and he’s not ready to re-experience that.

“I know it’s a little toned down compared to what we usually do but we have to make do for now. Kate has a fun little surprise for you later.

Zayne sets the knife against Derek’s right peck, just over his heart and slides it down. It leaves a trail of red liquid and when Zayne reaches just over the tops of his pants he takes the blade away, replaces it in the same spot and draws the line again. Its slow going, digging deeper and deeper a few layers of skin at a time and Derek hisses from it. He still can’t breathe.

“This is boring Alpha. Take it up a notch.” Dante licks his lips, a feral gleam in his eye that makes Derek shiver again. He doesn’t want it. He doesn’t want this. He wants to be back with Stiles, with the pack that cared about him. He wants to cuddle on the couch again and watch some stupid movie about a girl and a boy falling in love but he knows he’ll never have that again. Because he watched as Dante, Zayne, and Copper attack them, watched as they set the den ablaze and dragged him away. He’d watched it all and he knows that they couldn’t have gotten out while unconscious and Kate was off with Stiles and no. No, no, no. Stiles didn’t deserve to die at the hands of Kate.

Derek coughs again, the metal digging into his skin and the bob wire piercing his wrists. It all hurts and Derek hates that he knows without a shadow of a doubt that it’ll only get worse. That this isn’t even the tip of the iceberg, but the clouds that float over it.

“Kate’s okay if we use him right?” Dante glides his claws down both of Derek’s sides, the pain intensified by his body trying to heal and the collar preventing it. He wants to scream but can’t. Wants to breath but can’t. Wants to be anywhere but here but _can’t._

“I don’t think she’d mind. I’ll leave him to you. I have to check on the others,” he tosses the knife back on the table and Derek can hear the clang as it hits other metal items. “Just, remember, nothing too extreme.” He leaves with a slam of the heavy metal door. Derek knows this place. The basement that he’s practically lived in all his life. He knows he’s ‘home’ but somehow the place is different. He can’t place why but it is. Before he can focus enough to analyze the room Dante is in front of him, clippers snapping the bob wire around his wrists and ankles and finally the one around his neck. The clippers grab his skin and Dante laughs at his flinch; laughs at the whine of pain that Derek emits.

When he’s fully released Derek feels his legs about to give out when Dante grabs his hips, keeping him standing, before slinging him atop the table. Knifes and other sharp objects cut across his chest before sliding to the floor. Derek has a moment to mutter a low ‘ow’ before Dante is behind him, ripping away his borrowed jeans and throwing them off somewhere. Derek shivers from the cold wind that blows across his skin now before shuddering and gasping as Dante shoves in.

He screams. He knows he does. He can hear it in his ears, too loud and noisy and hurtful and he knows it doesn’t help the situation in any way at all but he can’t _not._ Dante huffs against his neck causing him to shudder again. He hates this. Hated it the first time and every time after. This is the worst punishment they could do to him, and he hates that it always happens. That his life has been spent as their toy, that he can never do anything right to stop this from happening.

“Damn, just as tight as always,” he grinds their hips together, claws buried in his skin so deep he thinks they might actually be between his ribs. Dante pulls out slowly, relishing in the way Derek hisses between clenched teeth before slamming forward, clawed hands pulling him back full force. Derek screams again, throat sore and tingling from dehydration, mild smoke inhalation from the fire, and overuse in such a short time. His hips are throbbing, his sides burning and he hurts.

Dante doesn’t slow down at all. He pistons inside, yanking Derek back to meet each thrust and Derek licks at the tears that stream down his face. He needs something to calm his throat and they just keep coming so…

The thrusting slows only a little before Dante simply grinds forward into him, releasing his seed as far as he can and he nips and licks at Derek’s neck before shifting his teeth and biting down full force on his carotid artery. Derek feels Dante sucking at his skin, knows he’s swallowing his blood and it makes him sick; this ritual Dante has that’s pure vampire though he isn’t one. He’s going to pass out from blood loss, he knows it, and isn’t surprised when the edges of his vision start shifting and darkening. Isn’t surprised when everything goes black and he can’t feel the cooling heat still dripping inside him.


	17. Lydia'd Make One Damn Good Alpha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia is clearly the voice of reason and ready to kick some damn ass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After reading all the comments since this long story started I have come to the conclusion that all you fan people are Lydias' and Lydia is ready to kick some scumbag ass, much like all of you are ready to read. So here is her rallying up the troops. Next chapter or two should contain the fight you all want so bad. Give me time to make it some really dramatic shit okay?
> 
> Comments make me so happy. Leave them please.

Derek whines. He can’t breathe right; he can’t inhale like his body demands. Kate had beat him within inches of his life like it was her favorite game to play. Beat the boy bloody and senseless. She had racked her manicured fingers through hair, grabbing fistfuls before yanking him forward. She buried her fist in his stomach and laughed. Kicked him in the ribs before grinding her six in heel into the tender flesh she’d blacked and bruised.

Dante had taken him four more times since he’d awoken after that. Had roughly thrust inside each time, biting at his flesh and leaving horrible looking marks along his neck and shoulder blades. Had scratched at his skin in the heights of his ecstasy.

Zayne had surprisingly been the most subdued, sticking to a few hits and kicks here and there but nothing nearly as bad as he was known to do. The hits were softer (still painfully hard mind you) but gentler than Derek could ever remember him being. And that scared Derek more than anything they’d done so far. Why? What was wrong that Zayne didn’t hurt him like usual?

Derek whines. He loves that they left him alone for a bit. That he gets to relax for at least a little bit as he waits for the next round of torture to begin. He knows it’s coming and yes, it vaguely scares him shitless but this moment of peace is too good to pass up.

* * *

 Stiles slides down his childhood door, the knob lodging itself into his ribs and sliding up until it’s digging painfully into his armpit then shoulder. The room itself is a nest of his pack members, now awake and all looking at him worriedly like he’s the one who was passed out in their burning home. Like he was the one who was attacked and left for dead. Like he was worse off than them.

“Stiles?” Scott sounds unsure as he pulls himself into a sitting position beside Isaac on the bed. He hadn’t been badly hurt, the wounds were deep but there were few of them. He inhales with a wince of pain as his abdomen expands and Stiles, though not exactly focused on watching him, notices. “We’re sorry we couldn’t stop them.”

Stiles, had he been capable of frantic emotions at the time, would have ran over and knocked some damn since into his childhood best friend for that stupid comment. For apologizing for fighting for all they were worth. For losing in a battle Stiles knows they couldn’t win anyway.

“Don’t Scott. You’re all hurt and I wasn’t there to help. If anyone should be apologizing it’s me. I shouldn’t have left.” Stiles swipes a hand through his hair. His bones feel like lead in his body and he can’t help the way he looks crumpled on the ground.

“Stilinski, don’t even start. We all feel bad but this mourning shit isn’t going to help anything. Get up. We need to locate Derek and get him back.” Lydia’s applying some kind of salve to her forehead where a nasty cut lines from one eyebrow up to her hair line and Stiles wonders if it doesn’t go further. The wounds aren’t healing like they were supposed to. After most of them had awoken, Stiles had asked why they weren’t healing like they should be. Allison had said that the pack who attacked, all wore some kind of nails, a covering of some sort, which smelt unnaturally like wolfsbane. Stiles had almost retched. What kind of hunters did they have as allies that would make weapons to hurt werewolves…to be used by werewolves?

“I don’t know. Where do we even start? The den is gone. There won’t be traces of their scents anywhere around there, it’s all smoke and ash. Depending on their transportation they could be anywhere from a few miles away to a continent. Any suggestions on what we do next?” And yeah, Stiles sounded a little angry. His words came out a little clipped and he held a level, yet subdued glare at Lydia who, after looking up at him over her compact, glared at him like he tried to tell her she was a bleach blonde bimbo. A guy had done that once after a mishap happened at the salon and she came out as the worst blonde imaginable. She’d decked the guy so hard four teeth had come out. She glared her warning first.

“You, don’t take that tone with me. Let’s break it down shall we? Derek is probably being raped right now, being thrown down on a dusty floor with two, maybe four, guys drilling inside him right now,” Lydia hates that Stiles flinches at her words, hates that he shrinks in on himself, but he needs some sense knocked into him. “He’s probably screaming your name, wanting help, wanting out. Right now Kate’s probably clawing words into his skin knowing that he can’t heal. She’s probably telling the wolves how to fuck him just so---“

“STOP IT!” Stiles roars. There’s a growl emitting from his throat and his claws are shredding the carpet beneath them.

Lydia doesn’t smile as she lifts herself up from the bed and walks slowly over to her alpha. The one she’s just enraged. “Stiles, he needs us. You acting like there’s nothing we can do now, is bringing us all down. Don’t let him down. Stand up, roar like the alpha you are, and find your omega.”

Stiles hates the internal conflict he has at her words. Hates the part of him that constantly tells him how stupid that is. How there aren’t any roads to follow now, how there’s no leads. But he knows she’s right. Knows it like he knows she’d make one hell of an alpha if she’d wanted to. But she stays at his side like his right hand woman because she knows Stiles needs her more than any other pack out there. And he loves her for it. Loves her unlike he loves Scott, so much more, but it’s somehow different. It’s a class all its own and all he knows about it is that it isn’t romantic love or sibling love like Scott. He knows there’s a lot of admiration mixed in it too.

“Your right. He needs us. We have to find him, kill that pack—“

“Slowly” Lydia chimes in.

“—and get my mate back.” Everyone looks at him with a mix of confusion and adoration. It’s like Stiles doesn’t even know what he’s said or what it means and Lydia pats him on the back.

“Yeah, we’ll get your _mate_ back,” she’s smirking as Stiles flounders. He twitches his arms and legs and he’s gasping and spouting nonsense trying to cover up his mistake but Lydia will have none of his shit. “You love him, he’s your mate, and it’s stupid that you realize that now. When he’s gone. So let’s get him back and be done with this convo alright?” She’s smiling perfect teeth his way and he sighs because she’s right. She’s always right.


	18. The Outing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia makes a discovery. Dun dun dun, Laura and Cora?! There is also a lot death. Like damn. Slayed pack. Derek's given up. Kate's still a bitch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so long compared to my other chapters. This hit 10 pages in MSW. Damn. Hope you guys like. It's not as climatic as I wanted but I like it anyway. I also wanted to bring in some more badass females so here's Laura Hale. Comments and Kudos are always welcome!

Blood stains the floor beneath him. His eyes are blurry from the blood loss and he’s weak in the knees. He knows he needs to keep standing but he knows it’s only a matter of time before he gives out and he collapses; knows that when he does it’s over but can’t bring himself not to.

The guy, the alpha, steps towards him. His claws are sheathed in something laced with some kind of new wolfsbane and he knows it’ll hurt when he’s stabbed again but can’t dodge the blow fast enough. They tear through his shirt and dig into soft flesh. He screams. It’s a few seconds before he’s down, splashing in his own blood next to Scott.

Isaac flies from the bed gasping in air so fast he’s choking and coughing. He grabs for his chest, pressing in just enough to somehow ease the pain and taking deep breaths. Scott pushes the door open quietly, peeking in around it to see Isaac.

“Hey, how do you feel?”

Isaac wants to say like shit, wants to scream that he feels gutted and skinned alive, wants to shout that he’d failed his alpha and---where the hell is Derek?

“What happed? Where is everyone?!” Isaac’s on the verge of shouting and Scott’s a little worried that he doesn’t remember the previous conversation. He can tell the news won’t be easy for him so he slides inside the room, shuts the door as quietly as possible, and takes a seat on the corner of the bed.

“The packs okay. After the other pack took us out they set the den on fire. Stiles and Danny were distracted by Kate but when they got to the house they had just enough time to get us all out. Except for Derek.” Scott pauses to let it all sink in before looking Isaac in the face. “We will get him back but right now we’re recuperating. Deaton says that the weapons they used were hunter made, specifically a group off the cost of California. There are some contacts Deaton knows that are going to inspect them. He says he’s pretty sure the group will be arrested within the week so step one is done. No more supplier.

"Unfortunatly we don’t have any leads to finding Derek. That pack knows how to cover their tracks. Even Deaton didn’t have any clues. Lydia is contacting other packs around, see if anyone knows anything about them. Seriously, they can’t just disappear.”

Isaac looks at him with a dulled expression that Scott can’t identify and doesn’t really want to. If he had to name it he’d say Isaac looks numb.

“So we failed,” his grip on the blanket tightens and Scott’s sure there will be punctures in it forever now.

“We weren’t able to protect him. Yeah, we failed. And when we get him back we can apologize profusely for it. But we have to get him back first,” Scott says. He knows Isaac needs the same pep talk they’d had (he’d had but forgotten) and so he places a hand on his shin over the blanket and squeezes. Out of everyone, exception Danny, Scott and Isaac had the best relationship. They’d become something of brothers (not nearly as much as Stiles and Scott) and for all wolves touch was the best way to comfort. “Rest a bit more. I’ll send Danny up in a few hours, earlier if we find something,” Scott says. Isaac nods and with a smile Scott leaves the room.

* * *

 

Derek collapses. His arms are useless now, fanned out beside him, hips being held up by the body behind him. His knees are grinding into the concrete and he’s sure they’re scrapped raw by now, probably has been for hours and he can’t tell if they hurt or not. It’s just really numb.

The body behind him grinds down, forcing Derek forward, cheek scrapping against the rocks and rubble below him and he can feel the skin peel away and he knows it hurts but he can’t bring himself to make a noise. His vocal cords have gone quite hours ago and he can’t speak, can’t scream though he wants to. All he can think about as the guy behind him empties into his stomach is of the other pack. How they fought tooth and claw to defend Derek and he’d been the reason they were hurt. He wonders if they’re all dead or if maybe Stiles survived.

Connor shoves inside, claws digging into the tops of his hips to hold him close and within minutes of thrusting he’s coming too. Derek blinks and closes his eyes.

* * *

 

Lydia taps her perfect stiletto nails on the space bar lightly in irritation. Stiles had watched her type and stare at the computer screen for hours. Allison had offered her food twice and each time Lydia had waved her away and huffed. He doesn’t know how many packs she’s contacted now or if they’ve even responded. The one time he asked her how it was going she’d turned burning yellow eyes at him and snarled. Stiles figured it meant ‘not well’ and left her alone.

Scott had trotted down the stairs about an hour ago. Stiles had told him to check on the rest of the pack. He sighed and sat down, relaying the statuses and rubbing a hand through his hair. Stiles knew he was stressed just as much as Lydia and he wishes he could do something to alleviate that stress but he doesn’t know if there is anything, short of Derek being okay and in this very room that would do the trick.

“OH. MY. GOD.” Lydia’s jaw drops and she’s standing in front of the computer in seconds. She’s on the verge of jumping up and down when Stiles is beside her trying to make sense of the words on the screen.

“What?! Damn it girl, tell me what?!”

“I found them. There’s a pack in New York that knows of them. Said they had a cub 18 years ago but the parents were killed mysteriously when the child was three. They were killed off by a pack under an Alpha named Kate. Says that the cub was thought to be dead too but after reading my description of him thinks the boy may belong to that pack.”

Stiles doesn’t know how that translates into ‘I found him’ but he’s gripping her hands tightly and spinning her nonetheless.

“Sorry to interrupt but that doesn’t tell us where Derek is now,” Scott says.

Not to be brought down Lydia smiles. “The pack says they kept a piece of the clothing that they managed to rip off one of the betas. She kept it to keep the smell and had her pack search for them for months. After a year they gave up on finding them. Said they had to have left the state and every state surrounding it. We could use that, use the scrap of fabric to trace their scent. I don’t think they left the state yet---“ just then a ding erupted from the computer and Lydia threw Stiles to the side in order to get back to it. Her smile is dangerous.

“The alpha as given permission for seventeen of her packmate’s to fly down with the fabric and to aid us. Seventeen! They won’t stand a chance.”

The computer dings again. Lydia can’t even bring herself to read the next email aloud. Instead she pulls Stiles by the shirt collar until his face is inches from the screen.

 **Laura**  
**To: Lydia**  
 **The parents of that child were my mother and father. Me and my sister where the only ones to survive out of the pack. I took over as alpha and have since then created a new, stronger pack. I would not only love to assist in finding these monsters, but I want to kill the one named ‘Kate.’ If you’ll allow us I would like to fly myself and my sister along with the seventeen members out to California. I want my brother back.**

Stiles is in shock. Derek has family. Derek has a family. Derek has sisters. Derek has an alpha. A damn alpha who wants him back. When they rescue Derek he’ll go live with them. He won’t get to keep his mate. NO!

“Tell her she can’t have him.” Stiles says petulantly. Lydia frowns at him.

“You know that’s not what I’m going to say. She is his sister, he has family. He will want to know them. Stiles he’ll still be your mate, you don’t even know if he’ll want to go with them.” She pats his head before pushing him aside. “Anyway, top priority is to get him back. I’m emailing her.”

Stiles watches her fingers type away at speeds he’d tried once. It put letters all over the screen that were definitely not words. He reads over her shoulder as she does so.

 **Lydia**  
**To: Laura**  
 **We would dearly appreciate it if you would come and assist us. I’m not sure my alpha will give up the chance to kill the bitch, given what Derek’s been through because of her, but I’ll let the two of you work that out. How soon can you get here?**

She sends the email and Stiles has a small smile on his face. Lydia is definitely his best friend. (Sorry Scott).

They wait impatiently for the next email. When the computer dings again Stiles leans in to read it.

**Laura**   
**To: Lydia**   
**We can be there tomorrow afternoon. What do you mean ‘what Derek’s been through’? What did she do to him? You didn’t say he was hurt. What did that bitch do!**

Lydia can’t bring herself to email the truth about her brother to his own sister so she simply emails back that they’ll talk when she arrives and that she’ll send over two of their beta’s (Jackson and Boyd) to pick them up from the airport. They don’t have a vehicle that can hold that many people so she sends a quick update that she’ll rent two vans as transportation. Stiles wants to hug her. She thinks of everything.

Scott, the one who had stayed relatively calm on the couch the entire time finally let his eyes close. He’s been awake for almost three days now attending to the more wounded and he’s exhausted. It’s not even a minute later that he’s out.

* * *

 

Laura cusses. Her demeanor falters in front of her pack, the ones lodged into the little office space, and she cusses more. Cora, her sister, places a hand on her shoulder. She’d read each email and response aloud, allowed her pack to know the ugly truth of her past, how she’d lost everything. She was calling on their help and she wanted them to know what and who they would be taking out. All heads nodded emphatically when she’d asked for their help.

She decided to play it safe. Tell the Beacon Hills pack that she was only sending over seventeen members but really that was her and her entire pack. They were leaving the New York territory of theirs unprotected and while she hated the thought of doing it she knew she had to. She was only twenty five but she’d lost her brother and if she had to give up the land she’d strived for then fine. There was no price too large for her little brother. She’d do the same for Cora.

* * *

 

She breathes in the clean air. Takes in the sights. Looks around as her pack stands tall behind her, Cora standing beside her. She stands taller, looking for the betas who are supposed to meet her here. She doesn’t know what to expect, doesn’t know if they’re telling the truth or not about her brother but she can’t help but believe them. Laura caresses the zip lock bag in her pocket containing the scrap of shirt she’d been able to grab that horrid day so many years ago. She shivers at the prospect of finally being able to seek revenge for her family.

“You Laura?” The guy in front of her is blond, tall and muscular, strong. She nods. The guy beside him is tall as well, black with the aura of danger around him. He nods and with a quick wary glance at her pack reaches out his hand. She shakes it.

“I’m Boyd and this is Jackson. We’re here to escort you to the ex-alpha’s house.” Boyd smiles at her.

“I’m Laura, these are my betas and omegas.” She knows there isn’t time for long introductions now. “I thought we were going to your territory?” She can’t be too trusting of this new pack. Lies are a bad start and she’s beginning to think this might have been the wrong decision.

“Our den was burnt down by that psycho bitch Kate and her lackeys. We’ve been staying with the alpha’s father until it can be rebuilt.” Boyd says. It’s rare he swears but it seems Kate has that sway on a person that makes the worst of language come out.

“Oh, alright.”

* * *

 

Stiles is going to make a rut in the floor, his dad just knows it. There’s already scuff marks across the living room. “Stiles, stop please. You’re going to drive me insane kid.”

“I need to do something, I need to move, to –to. I don’t even know. Dad, I don’t know. This girl, this alpha could take Derek away from me. I can’t…” John sighs. It’s news to him that his son found his mate in some scraggly teenager and he’s happy his son is happy but it would have been nice to meet the kid before he ended up kidnapped and his sons house went up in flames. You take one trip and bam. The stuff you miss. 

“Look kid, I know you’re energized like the battery bunny but you have to calm down. What is this other pack going to think when they walk in and you’re bouncing off the walls?”

“He’s right dude, calm down.” Isaac chimes in from the couch. He’d insisted on being present, stated that his wounds weren’t nearly as bad as they used to be and demanded to be a part of this. Stiles relented on the terms that he stay on the couch.

Danny sat with Isaac’s head in his lap, Erica in the recliner waiting for Boyd to come back, Lydia on the couch with Stiles in the middle of her and Scott (when he finally relented and plopped down), and John stood in the kitchen hugging up to Melissa. They looked sickeningly sweet to Stiles and Scott both.

There was a knock at the door that sent him jumping up. Lydia roughly pushed him back down and stood herself to get it. As she ushered everyone inside, everyone stood and moved to stand behind Stiles.

“Hello, alpha Stilinski was it?” Stiles nods. “It’s nice to meet you. I am alpha Laura Hale of the New York pack. This is my sister and beta Cora Hale. She motioned to the girl beside her, brown hair touching below her shoulders and a petulant smirk on her lips. She didn’t seem impressed by the size of Stiles pack at all. Or of them.

She went on to name the rest of the faces behind her but Stiles couldn’t begin to focus for that. The two girls in front of him looked so much like Derek. All three had dark hair, Derek having black, all three had some unnamable green/blue/silver/yellow eyes and attractive looks. Stiles can’t help but think that had it not been Derek it surely would have been Laura.

“Stiles!” Lydia hisses into his ear. She’s not nearly loud enough for the other pack to hear but Stiles feels embarrassed anyway.

“I’m alpha Stiles Stilinski of the Beacon Hills pack here in California. This is my father and ex-alpha John Stilinski and his mate Melissa. My betas and omegas Scott McCall and his mate Allison Argent, Lydia Martin her mate Jackson Whittmore, Isaac Lahey and his mate Danny Mahealani, and Erica Reyes and her mate Boyd.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you all, if only it were for better circumstances. Now, I would like to get straight to business but I have to know, what did she do to him?” Laura’s eyes flash red and it’s not a threat, not any sign of aggression geared to Stiles or his pack. It’s simply her losing control over her emotions. She cares and that’s what Stiles wanted to see.

Stiles goes into the long story of how he found him and what the doctor had said. Told her about their efforts to care for him and his ‘rules’. By the end of the discussion Laura had wretched into the nearest trashcan and her eyes stay crimson. She had wrung her hands to the point they were red from irritation and her claws had extended. Stiles was a little proud of the anger she held. He knew if he didn’t get to keep Derek then this girl would protect him like no one’s business.

“I can’t believe this. He’s been…their _toy_?” She snarls the word to the point Stiles isn’t sure what she’s said. He nods. She’s close to a mental breakdown. Her little brother, the child that smiled a gap toothed smile at her when he was two; the child that couldn’t pronounce her name and called her ‘Ra’ and smiled when she acted annoyed; the child that held so many reminders of their parents was now someone’s sex toy. Laura growled again. She would not stand for this. Not at all. She would kill every member of that pack, and she would do it so slowly Derek would be older than her now by the time Kate died.

* * *

 

“Such a used piece of trash isn't he?” Kate’s voice is mocking, an underlying tinge of disgust to it. Derek has officially given up. Right now, he believes, is the lowest he can go. He wishes they’d kill him already. Stop torturing him and just slit his throat. He’s tired and sore and ready to cry. Not from the pain he’s felt but simply from the hopelessness he feels. What’s the point in screaming from the pain when it doesn’t help the situation? What’s the point in calling for help when no one’s looking? What’s the point in living when your life is _this_? He closes his eyes and tries to block out the voices over him.

Laura smiles. Stiles will readily admit it's more predatory than anything Lydia could produce and that scares the hell out of him but it also calms him. He can read the bloodlust in her eyes and he can almost imagine the look on Kate’s face when she shows up.

It hadn’t taken long for Boyd and Jasper (Laura’s pack) to track the scent of the pack. They’d traveled by foot close to California’s borderline before Boyd alerted them. The pack was close. Stiles looked around. As far as hiding places went they had picked a pretty good spot. The place was something rural, trees spread for miles around and he could just faintly see the outline of a medium sized shack. They approached closer before Lydia spoke up.

“We should make a plan before just running in there,” she pulled at Stiles’ shirt to stop him. It effectively tripped him and sent him toppling into one of Laura’s wolves. The dude was burly, near his thirties but sexy-like. Stiles would not over think that.

“You’re correct. We need a plan. I’m confident we outnumber them so that’s something on our side. We should split up. Half of my pack will circle around to the back. The other from the left side circling to the front. We’ll take out the betas. They won’t last long. You guys head straight in. You are in charge of getting Derek out. Leave Kate to me,” Laura cracks her knuckles the bloodlust shining brighter in her eyes. Stiles won’t back down about this though.

“No. I want the honors of killing that bitch. She’s mine,” Stiles growls at her. Laura didn’t think he’d have the gall to stand up to her. However, it isn’t as effective as he thinks.

“I’m taking her out. You will not get in my way. Do you understand?” She takes a step towards him and while it reassures him that his pack steps forward he knows he can’t afford to lose their help so he backs down. As long as she dies what does it matter who does it?

“Fine. But I want to talk to her before you kill her. I have a debt to pay.”

Laura nods and they split up.

Stiles is ready. They wait nearly ten feet away from the shack looking at the unsuspecting men guarding the door. They’re talking to each other and their words are pissing Stiles the hell off.

“That kid’s good right? Can’t believe you finally had your first taste yesterday. Dude, it was hot right?”

The other guy nods. “Man, the kids the shit. I loved it. Though I think I went a little too easy on the whore.”

Stiles growls before he can stop himself. Of course that gets their attention and before he can think about what he’s doing Stiles has already ripped out one of their throats, the one who called Derek a whore, and Laura has the others still handing off her claws. She squeezes the mess in her hands, enjoying the feeling of it sliding between her fingers.

“Let’s get the rest of them.” She calmly walks up the stairs and kicks the door down. Like a badass. Stiles is a little jealous he can’t be that cool. If he’d tried that he would have sent himself toppling down the steps and he knows it.

“Stop starring lasers at her. She’s too badass to care.” Jackson punches Stiles in the shoulder lightly. Stiles turns his glare to him before pushing him aside to enter the house next.

* * *

 

Kate smiles down at the unconscious omega on her floor. She knows she’s broke him; knows that he’s never going to be the little kid she’d taken years ago. Gerard had passed away years before the kid turned 18 and she’d thought about killing the kid off then but Zayne and Dante still liked him. She’d kept him for their sake, after all, when Zayne played roughly with Derek he played nice with her. It wasn’t until Zayne stopped messing around with her altogether that she’d decided to get rid of him. He was supposed to die out there. She never would have thought she was that close to another pack. Never thought they’d take in an omega like him.

It wasn’t even a week after riding herself of Derek that Zayne went back to his old ways. He took bullying too far when it came to his mate. The cuts and bruises stayed longer than usual and Kate knew she had to pick up another child. She’d planned to pick up another boy. Maybe in his early teens this time so Zayne had someone who would fight back a bit more than Derek had. She just never imagined that the pack she chose would be the ones who had snagged Derek up. It was quick thinking when she called her pack to attack. Dante had been the happiest with the news.

She smiled down at Derek. The poor thing looked done for. He was probably wishing for death right now. She should show him a little mercy, he did take the brunt of Zayne’s personality for her. She bent down, claws stretched out, and ran one along his neck. Derek slowly opened up his eyes. They were dulled, glossed over and she wondered if he even registered that it was her in front of him right now.

“Hey, sweetie. How are you feeling?” She says sweetly. Derek doesn’t seem to know she’d even spoken. “I was going to end this for you but…it seems someone’s here for you.” Kate stands up and turns to face Zayne in the doorway. His eyes are red, glowing eerily in the darkness around them.

“We have company.”

Kate smiles. She loves company.

* * *

 

“The basement. Why is everything in the basement? Don’t these monsters watch horror movies?” Stiles whines. He’s looking down the stairs to the concrete basement with a grimace. Of course they chose to hide out in the damned basement.

They had taken out most of the pack out quite easily when they teamed up two against one. Stiles was quite pleased with how easily they went down. Now they had to go into the stupid basement. Like that was ever a good idea.

“Stop being a pussy. Move. I have business with them.” Cora pushes Stiles to the side and she and Laura lead the rest of them down into the darkness. Cora and Laura gasp and there’s tears in the corners of their eyes. Stiles has to look away quickly.

There is a single lamp overhead that illuminates Derek’s body. He’s naked, curled up on the ground, eyes open but unseeing and he’s shivering but whether it’s from the cold concrete or from the experience Stiles doesn’t know. It hurts his heart to know that after 15 or so years this is how his sisters see him.

“Derek?” Laura asks. Her voice breaks on the ‘k’ but she takes a tentative step forward. It’s then that Kate and Zayne walks out from the darkness and into the light. Stiles watches, eyes red and narrowed. He can’t wait to kill them, or to watch them die in Kate’s case.

“Kate.”

“Aw, I thought we killed all of you. You know, you look a lot like that tramp I killed. That was your mother wasn’t it? Let me tell you, watching her burn was the best thrill I got that night.”

Laura growls feral at her. “I’ll kill you slowly for that.” Laura walks forward a step before freezing. Zayne has Derek tilted up in his grasp, a claw at his throat just above the collar still around his neck. She can see, now that he’s uncurled, the wounds he’s sustained. They aren’t healing and that worries her but she remembers Stiles telling her about the hunter’s collar and she snarls. There’s so much blood on his skin she can’t make out just how bad his wounds really are.

“Now now, let’s all calm down. We wouldn’t want my mate here to accidentally hit his carotid artery now would we?” Kate glances over at Zayne whose finger twitches and leaves a small scratch over Derek’s jugular. Either place is a killing point for Derek so Laura retreats.

“Good. It’s nice to see you Stiles, I hate that I missed you before,” Zayne smiles at him. Stiles wants to cut it off his face.

“What do you want?” Stiles demands. Zayne laughs.

“I don’t want anything. I plan on leaving here with Kate and you all will have your…thing here back.”

“Not happening!” Laura yells at him. “You both are going to pay for what you’ve done to my brother.”

Cora takes a hold of Laura’s shirt, tugging lightly to let her know to pull back a bit. They have Derek by the throat, threats aren’t the way to go right now. Laura notices too late. Zayne digs his nail into Derek’s neck, just above the collar and rips to the side. Derek whimpers.

“We won’t tell you again. These are the terms take them or leave them.” Kate plays with her nails in disinterest.

“Fine,” Cora says. Laura whips her head to look at her and there is an anger there Cora’s never seen. “We’ll take the deal. You hand us Derek and we’ll let you go.”

“Well, glad one of you stupid wolves understands. Now will the two alphas agree?”

Stiles is reluctant to but he nods. Laura takes a few more seconds before agreeing to. There isn’t a thing they can do with Derek in their grasp.

“How are you doing the exchange?” Lydia asks. Zayne smiles at her.

“Not at all. Stupid.” He cuts a thick line all the way across Derek’s neck and throws him to the side. While they are distracted he and Kate run towards the back of the house were a set of stairs leads outside. Lydia and Scott are the first to snap out of it and run after them followed by a few of Laura’s pack.

Stiles see’s red. He isn’t sure when he pushes Laura and Cora out of the way, only that he does. He’s kneeling beside Derek in an instant. His hands flutter around Derek, not sure what he can do to help, to stop the blood, to make everything better.

“Get the collar off. Get the collar off so he can heal.” Cora pushes at Stiles back. It’s the best idea they have but Stiles has no idea how Deaton got it off the first time. The metal isn’t easy to break and if it’s not taken out carefully the spikes that are tucked into Derek's flesh will cause more damage. He frowns down at Derek who already looks dead. There’s no color in his face and his eyes are closed. Stiles can’t breathe. It feels like a weight in his chest is dropping down into his stomach and a lump is clogging his throat. He knows the onset of a panic attack when he feels one.

“Stiles, you have to calm down, now is not the time for this,” Danny tells him. He takes a hold of Stiles shoulders and pulls him away. Laura takes his spot, testing the collar by lightly pulling at it. She can see a seal right in the front but she knows this collar, knows how it’s embedded in Derek’s throat and she knows she can’t just pull the damn thing out. Knows that will only cause more harm than good. She needs to pull it apart without yanking it. How? How?!

“Laura, calm down. You know how hunters’ weapons work. You’ve studied them for years. Calm down,” Cora tells her. She’s always been Laura’s rock ever since their family died and she continues to surprise Laura by being calm and steady in situations like these.

“You’re right. I know this.” She tilts Derek's head to the side to see the back of the collar. The metal is connected by a metal hinge that allows the motion of opening and closing. If she can break that…No, that’ll only stop the motion all together. She has to find…

“Here,” Laura whispers. She finds the lump in the collar near the right side of Derek’s throat that holds the wires and probably the wolfsbane. She just has to disconnect all the wires and the collar should shut down. The spikes will retract and she can pull it off.

“I need claws over here now!” Laura yells. In an instant her pack surrounds her. “Someone pull that off,” She points to the metal cover. It takes two wolves to pull the clasp off. She takes her nails and pulls the wires out. One is a tube of wolfsbane and it leaks out onto her hand. She hisses and retracts her hand but doesn’t let the pain deter her. She yanks the collar apart, and throws it far away. Instantly Derek’s wounds start to heal but the one around his throat is too slow.

“It won’t heal in time.” Laura’s in a panic as she scans Derek’s body. He’s an array of colored bruises and red scratches. There’s too much for his body to heal it can’t work on his neck. Laura sets Derek down and puts both her hands on his chest. Black veins stretch up her arm and curl around her throat. More twine down her back and hits her legs. She can feel a dull thrum from her butt and knows what it's from but refuses to dwell on it. She focuses on the searing pain in her throat.

Stiles can’t calm down but he knows what’s happening. He rushes forward setting both his hands on Derek’s cheeks and feels the pain course through his body. One by one the others touch Derek somewhere to help heal him. It’s an exhausting process and it takes so long Lydia and Scott have arrived back with Kate and Zayne in there grasps. Lydia leaves Scott and the other wolves to hold the two and sets to helping Derek. Kate sneers.

“You really think he’s worth all this?”

“He’s my mate, he’s worth my life,” Stiles snarls out. He’s so focused on Derek that he doesn’t notice the look Laura and Cora send him.

It seems like hours before the gash is healed around Derek’s neck. His breathing has evened out and when there isn’t a scratch left for his body to heal the others move back. Stiles picks the child up and carries him bridal style upstairs. When he’s on the last step he looks back down at his pack and Laura’s. He meets her eyes, his a mix of fiery red and golden brown. “Kill them,” he walks away from Kate’s shrill scream and the snarls of wolves.

 


	19. Permanent Damage?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deaton shares some horrible news and Stiles yells.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I'm sooooooooooooooooooooooo sorry I haven't been updating. I have no excuses. I guess I'm just getting a little bored with this story. I'll try to end it soon, since I'm not that motivated to crank out chapters like I have been. Expect maybe two or three more and a happy (?) ending. Also, sorry this chapter is so short but you guys want something right?

Stiles’ eyes flickered like broken street lamps all the way home. The red shining into the night while his unconscious mate slept on in his arms. The rest of the pack plus Laura’s had caught up to him shortly after he left. Lydia had reported the death in slow, graphic detail, and the cleanup that took place afterwards.

“Call Deaton. I want Derek checked out as soon as we get back,” Stiles said. Scott whipped out his phone and speed dialed the doctor.

“We found him. There’s a lot you need to be caught up on but first we need you to check him out. All his wounds were healed with assistance but Stiles wants an expert opinion.” After a few nods from Scott that Deaton clearly couldn’t see he hung up. “He’ll be at the house in the next ten. He said to lay Derek down and not to move him too much.”

Stiles nods and the rest of the walk is silence.

* * *

 

They had risked their lives to save Derek only for Deaton to say it was probably all of naught.

Stiles had screamed at the doctor then. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN PERMANENT DAMAGE!? HE’S A FUCKING WERWOLF HE HEALS!”

“He may be a werewolf Mr. Stilinski but he has been in that collar with such immense physical wounds over such a length of time that his brain has sustained damage that seems quite permanent. Not to say that he'll never heal, that is a possibility however it is a small one. I'm sorry to have to give you this news. I know what the omega is to you but you have to face-“

“No, I have gone through hell and back to get this far with this pack and I finally found my mate and this sick shit is what he goes through? What kind of damage? Like memory loss? Will he forget the shit storm his life has been!?” Stiles hasn't calmed down but his voice is lowered remembering Derek sleeping upstairs. He doesn't want to wake him from his much needed sleep.

“I really can't tell you. It's not a clean sweep of any one section of his brain. It appears we'll just have to wait until he wakes up and monitor his interactions and intelligence. I simply want you prepared for the case that something is very wrong.” Deaton sweeps his eyes over the rest of the werewolves around him. “Now, until Derek wakes up I need to look over the rest of you. The strain of wolfsbane they used seems to be of a new variety- oh speaking of which Stiles, the hunters responsible for creating and selling this new wolfsbane and the new weapons you encountered were found and jailed. They each face life in prison with no parole.”

Stiles wants to smile. He wants to be glad that at least something went right but he thinks of Derek upstairs and he can't. Can’t bring himself to smile at Deaton and thank him for letting him know. His chest feels hollow now, much like it did when Derek went missing in the first place. Stiles wants to scream and throw a temper tantrum like he did when he was still a young pup, when his mother was still alive and he thought the worst thing in the world was being confined away from his toys.

“So we wait,” his voice is breathy, a lump closing his throat because if there's one thing Stiles sucks at it's waiting.

* * *

 

It's a few days later that Derek wakes. Deaton sits on the couch, looking over notes and researching all he can about the cancelation collars and brain damage. Stiles peers over his shoulder every once in a while to find the screen of Deaton’s tablet full of miniature text. He doesn't bother trying to read it.

When a low groan came from upstairs Stiles almost fell up the stairs in his sprint. He did stump his toe a bit but getting to Derek was his top priority and no stupid stairs were going to stop him.

“Derek?!” Stiles accidentally slams the door open in his haste, the loud noise startling Derek to the point the poor thing almost falls off the bed. Stiles reaches to grab him only for Derek to flinch away and whine. He quickly retracts his hand, bracing it against his chest. “Hey, Derek, it's me, Stiles. Please, please tell me you remember me.”

Derek is silent and that scares the every loving hell out of him but he waits, hopes.

“Alpha Stilinski, yes, I remember you. I-“ Stiles doesn't bother listening for the rest of whatever Derek’s about to say because he remembers him. He hasn't lost his memories!

“You had me so worried, Deaton said you might have brain damage but…” He reaches to touch Derek's cheek but Derek once again shifts away and whines.

* * *

 

Derek knows that touch hurts. No touch is ever nice and he isn’t willing to take that chance with this alpha. His alpha will be pissed that he's been gone for…how long has he been gone? What if this alpha killed his other alpha? Who was his other alpha?

Stiles wants to whine too. Derek, his unknowing mate, just flinched away from him. Like he was scared. And yeah, Stiles can understand that at least, knows that Derek won’t want to be touched for some time, maybe even never but he wants to envelope the little omega in his arms and comfort him nonetheless.

“I’m going to go get Deaton, just relax here for a bit okay?” Stiles steps back and the forced smile on his face slides away as he watches Derek relax the further Stiles steps away from him.  He pretends it doesn’t hurt.


	20. He's My Mate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles has to ask permission to keep Derek...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so short chapter. Sorry, but enjoy!

Stiles is totally freaking out right now. Derek’s been put on bed rest by Deaton and instructed both anxious packs to let him sleep. The doctor is now camped out in Stile’s father’s living room, laptop always in his lap and constantly watching the screen. Stiles knows that this is about as good a time as it will get to discuss Derek’s living arrangements with Laura but he can’t. What if she says no? That Derek has to live with her and her pack in New York? He can’t let Derek go.

Lydia may be shooting him daggers and then pointing with her eyes at Laura and Cora, both girls anxiously biting at their bottom lips while trying to watch some TV show that Jackson had put on. Stiles is pretty sure they already know just how fake they look. Their thinking. They have no clue who’s trying to kill the werewolf and who’s the alpha. Stiles smiles at the show before Lydia catches his attention again. She’s mouthing words out of those luscious pink lips.

_Get your ass over there. NOW._

Stiles takes a deep breath to steady himself, lifts from the couch, turns towards Laura and Cora, and promptly rushes past them to the kitchen. It’s seconds later he hears Lydia’s heels click against the floor.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing Stilinski?” Lydia puts her right hand on the counter top and the other on her hip effectively blocking the doorway. She’s speaking so lowly that Stiles has to strain to hear her. There’s no way the others will hear over the noise of the TV.

“I can’t. What if she says no? If I don’t ask she can’t say anything right? That’s how it works? Besides we should be worrying about Derek first and foremost. That conversation can wait.” Stiles doesn’t sound confident, keeps twiddling his thumbs and looking down. He can’t look at Lydia right now. He knows his argument is invalid, that he’s completely stupid for even saying this to her.

“Fine, put it off. Wait until Derek’s better and you have to include him. Wait until Derek is forced between you two while you play tug of war over him. He’ll have the final say but you two will have to argue about it while he’s lying there in bed. Poor thing.” She steps back, intent on leaving on that note but Stiles doesn’t want it to end there.

“What? No, look Derek will get to say what he wants to do anyway, so what does it matter if I put it off ‘till he wakes up?”

“Oh Stiles. You and Laura are going to need to talk. She might be against it whether it’s what Derek want’s or not. Wouldn’t it be better to know her stance before you put her and Derek in a situation like that? Where they might end up fighting about this decision?” Lydia flips some hair over her shoulder, stiletto nails glinting in danger. “Don’t make him chose between family and relationship when he’s still new to both.” She leaves at that and Stiles feels superbly incompetent as an alpha. He always needs his beta to soothe over situations and talk reasoning into him and that’s not how he’s supposed act. It’s about time he’s stepped up into his roll a little better than he has.

* * *

 

“Laura? Might I speak with you privately?” Stiles stands rigid in the doorway, a thin line on his face to indicate the seriousness of the situation. Laura looks at him with surprise before nodding and following. A few of her wolves look her way, silently asking if she’ll be okay. They are appeased with a slight nod from her as she leaves the room.

Stiles leads her a few miles into the woods behind the house where a clearing has set for the past hundred years. Stiles idly remembers all the times he would come out here to clear his head or release pent up frustrations. Even after he created the den and moved out he could still be found here should he become upset or distressed. It’s soothing for him.

“What is this about Alpha Stiles?” Laura’s weary of him, the hesitance in her voice the dead giveaway.

“It’s about Derek. I am of the assumption that you heard me claim him as my mate?” Stiles tries to sound authoritative but his voice is shaking just the tinniest bit and he’s pretty sure Laura heard. If not she’s surely heard his hammering heart.

“I did. This is true? When did you know?”

“It is true. I don’t know the exact moment. I think it might have been the moment I found him bloody in the woods behind the den. He’s been so soft spoken and spooked around us and it hurt to see a wolf act like a rabbit among predators. I wanted---want to protect him. I’m pretty sure the connection to my wolves made them feel the same. They would always stay with him when they had time, or brush by him so he’d have their scent. It was never overpowering and it never masked mine and that made me so happy. It’s stupid really, how much I just want him to be happy. His life…god his life…I want him stay here. With me.” Stiles looks up at her. Laura doesn’t look surprised by his declaration.

“I’m his family. He is ours first and while I appreciate your dedication to him and letting me know of your intentions, I have my own as well. I want my little brother back. Living for years thinking my family was all gone but Cora is something I could never go through again. I can’t know that he’s alive and not have him by my side.”

Stiles knew deep down in his worst fears that this would be her answer. He hadn’t really prepared an argument but he can’t give up on this now, not when he’s finally round up the courage to come this far. “I understand your side as well. And I would be willing to work something out but he’s my mate. I need him here with me.”

“ _You_ couldn’t even keep him safe. He almost died because you and your pack couldn’t take down a pack like _hers_. I can’t possibly let him stay in a place that isn’t safe for him.”

Stiles gaps at her. So, fangs are coming out? “I seem to recall that we took them out equally. Neither could have done so by themselves. My pack is strong, and we’ve fucked up, but he is safe with us.”

“What if another pack comes? Tries to take your territory by going for your mate? You really think your pack is able to do anything about it? Look at this logically. My pack is bigger, stronger, and our territory is larger with a more well-known name. Your pack is small, a flea to a dog in comparison, and your den is a pile of rubble in the middle of some isolated woods. Who’s the better fit as caretaker here?” Laura stares at him as he crumbles the slightest bit.

Stiles is beginning to hate this girl. She has all fair points and he has no rebuttals. Although it feels like his chest is being torn open each time she utters a truthful syllable, he knows she’s right. How well could he care for Derek? His mate needs so much more than sarcasm and jokes and that’s really all he has to offer.  

“Can I visit?”

“What?” For once she sounds surprised so Stiles lifts his head to look her eye to eye.

“Can I visit him from time to time? You’re right, what’s to say we could keep him safe? You have the better abilities and my first priority to his safety. I’ve failed that already and I don’t want it to happen again. But I want to see him.” Stiles feels like he’s trying to make a deal with the undertaker right now. If she denies this one request he’s sure he’ll die on the spot. Mates are serious and he’ll go mad without being able to see Derek.

“I’m proud of you. Most alpha’s try to fight and argue even when they’re in a losing battle. But you, you worried about Derek above your own feelings and that’s something I’m highly impressed with. Have you forgotten that I’ve seen you and your pack fight? You all are strong and I know Kate’s pack was advanced with weaponry.”

Stiles doesn’t know what she’s saying and therefore has no idea how to respond past moving his jaw up and down and squinting his eyes in confusions.

“You love Derek. And I can’t take him from you. Of course it’ll completely be his decision but…Stiles, I was testing you. If you had fought me tooth and nail I would have taken him, with or without your consent. It’s clear Derek doesn’t need a dominant alpha like that. He needs a compassionate one. You were willing to give up your mate for his safety and his family. And that is why I’ll allow him to stay here should that be his choice.” Laura smiles genuinely at him and Stiles face splits so wide it hurts. He doesn’t even bother trying to stop his arms from encircling around her waist as he lifts her up and hugs the life from her. His face is pressed into her boobs and she’s a little uncomfortable with the situation but the smile remains on her face even when he finally puts her down after becoming dizzy from spinning them in circles.

 


	21. Derek's Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek wakes up, a diagnosis is made, and he officially meets his family. Or, what's left of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYS!!! There is one last chapter after this and then One Found Omega is done! I'm so happy I could finish this. I'm even happier that so many people enjoyed it! Hope this chapter is cute and fluffy enough for you. It's family feels. Sterek will be in the last chapter where Stiles confesses his feelings and so on. Enjoy this chapter though.

Deaton is no closer to analyzing the emotional and mental state Derek could be in since he fell back asleep the moment Stiles had walked out of the room days earlier. Pouring over research papers and incredulous accusations by what seems to be four year olds haven’t helped him to understand anything more into the symptoms Derek might exhibit once he wakes. The couch he’s been crashing on has long since lost its appeal and Deaton, despite the need for him being close by, is two hours away from calling it quits to reunite himself with his bed.

After Stiles and Laura’s little talk the two have been hanging around each other more. Laura and Cora had both adamantly refused to go back to New York with their brother still unconscious and unknowing of their existence. Laura did however, send the rest of her pack back. They left with unhappy faces.

Currently, Stiles was recalling the way Derek had acted with the pack. How they were all getting closer. Laura smiled at the way he called Derek “Der” seemingly without realizing it. Cora shook her head fondly at him.

“Der fell asleep with all of us curled around him one time. Woke up before us and I swear I have no idea how he got out without waking anyone but he did it. And the breakfast he made that day was amazing. Like, who ever said women belong in the kitchen. Put him in there any day. Wait, no. That was rude. I didn’t mean it like that. I…So, Deaton, anything new?”

Laura smiled at him before turning her attention to the Dr. on the couch, typing away on his laptop. “Have you found anything that may help?”

Deaton shakes his head before closing his eyes and shaking his head, kneading at his temples. “No. The weapons are far too new for anyone to know much about them. The designers are refusing to say anything about them and the weapons themselves are on lock down. They are being taken apart and studied but the information being gathered is top secret apparently. I’d have to make a special trip up there for any information. Derek’s sleeping which is good now, but when he wakes up there could be a much different outcome than last time. He might awaken feral or with damage to his memory. You celebrated a tad too early Stiles.”

“He does that,” Isaac says. He’s healed fine after having most of his intestines leaking from his body. Danny stayed beside him the entire time and the two were sickly sweet to the point most of the pack left them to their own in a private room towards the back of the house.

“Shut it Isaac. I just want him to be okay. It’s been two days, can you give some kind of time frame that he might wake up?”

Deaton shakes his head and Scott places a firm, reassuring hand on Stiles’ shoulder. “Relax man, he’ll wake up sometime. His body has a lot to process and heal, it takes time. You, being an alpha all your life, don’t quite know how slow other wolves heal. It takes time and a lot of energy.”

“Scott is right. Alpha’s healing is accelerated. Alpha’s draw most of their energy and power from the beta’s they have around them. Beta’s produce extra energy for this reason so their healing is also rather fast. However, omegas aren’t meant to fight or lead so they produce energy for themselves. Alpha’s are…let’s say “hardwired,” to protect them because of this. An omegas healing rate is only slightly higher than a regular humans. With Derek being unable to heal any of his injuries for prolonged times his body is trying to overcompensate that. Take years of abuse like his and put it at a slower human healing rate and you have what is happening now. His werewolf genes are trying to heal so much at the same time that it’s becoming overwhelming and the speed is slowing down. To try to stabilize that Derek is sleeping allowing his body to heal.”

“You’re a very intelligent doctor. I think you might just be this packs’ greatest asset,” Laura smiles sharply at Stiles who sputters for a comeback.

“Now now, we know,” Erica nods enthusiastically. Of course his pack is turning against him.

Deaton merely ignores them all and turns his attention back to his computer. He sighs at whatever he sees and starts typing something. Stiles shakes his head. Laura’s right anyway.

* * *

 

“GUYS! Derek’s up!” Isaac might miss a step running down the stair and, maybe, Stiles trips and actually does face plant when he tries to run past him. There’s too much excitement for him to feel embarrassed about it now.

“DEREK!” Stiles throws the door open and distinctly feels déjà vu.

Derek looks up at Stiles as he comes in and while there is a small flicker of recognition in his eyes, they’re also dulled.

“Der, how are you feeling?” Stiles’ voice trembles over a few of the words. He watches as Derek tilts his head a little to the right. “Derek?”

“My head hurts. My throat hurts too.”

Stiles sighs a little hearing his voice. It’s the same as it was before. “Dr. Deaton - you remember him? - is here to look at you again. Is it alright if he comes in?”

Derek only nods. There’s a tightness in his chest as well but Derek knows it’s not a physical problem. It’s there but it doesn’t hurt and really he doesn’t know what to do with that information. Why doesn’t it hurt? Is it a problem he should mention to Alpha Stilinski or not? Will it go away?

“Derek, it’s nice to see you again. Awake that is,” Deaton smiles warmly at the omega before slowly approaching the bedside. Derek tenses for a second before forcing his body to relax. It’s a struggle but he manages it before Deaton sits down. He doesn’t take much of the bed, barely enough to sit on and he’s holding his hands up, palms out, waiting for permission to touch. Derek nods again.

“Deaton here is gonna do a few tests and when you pass them all I have a surprise for you,” Stiles says. He knows he’s said the wrong thing when Derek starts breathing heavily and his eyes glaze over and he’s shaking. Stiles cusses and rushes forward but Deaton sticks his hand out.

“Derek. Derek, can you hear me?” There’s no response from the omega and Deaton sighs. “Derek, I need you to focus on me okay, my voice. Derek?”

“Let me try,” Stiles says as he moves forward. This time Deaton doesn’t stop him. “Derek, I want you to listen to me. Zone in on my voice and nothing else okay?” No response. “You are okay. You are fine because you are with me, Alpha Stiles Stilinski of the Beacon Hills pack. There is no one that will hurt you here. I’m sorry for saying something to trigger this but you are okay. Nothing will hurt you as long as I’m here.”

* * *

 

_I can’t. Your voice is going in and out._

_No, I’m not. Can’t breathe right. Hurts._

_Alpha Stiles? No, Alpha Argent is here. She has a surprise. Zayne, no, no, no no no nononononono._

_Yes there is, she’s here. He’s here. They’re all here. HURTS._

_You’re here? Who? Stiles…here?_

Derek cracks an eye open to see Stiles sitting on the bed next to him, a small space between him and Deaton who’s also starring. He’s still breathing hard, can’t quite get the right tempo or the right amount.

“That’s good. Good job Derek,” Stiles smiles gently at him but his smile turns beaming when Derek seems to peacock at the praise. Like it’s the best thing ever; being told he’s doing good.

When he can finally breathe again and seems to have relaxed a little bit Stiles moves back and Deaton takes over again.

“Now then, Derek I need you to answer a few questions and then we’ll start a short physical. So far it seems like there might not be much, if any, actual side effects or symptoms. The long hibernation like sleep might have fixed you up well enough.

* * *

 

The assessment has Stiles skipping down the stairs, the biggest smile on his face in years. He’s giddy and excited and nothing is going to bring him down. Derek’s stomach had growled and Stiles took that opportunity to leave, to grab him food but to also relay the message to the pack.

“Well? Come on Stilinski, tell us how it went!” Lydia has stopped filing her nails and if she hadn’t just spend days filing and painting them she might have been chewing on them.

“He’s A-Okay. Deaton said he’ll have depressive moments and suffer from PTSD. That he’ll need a lot of TLC but there is no permanent brain damage or nerve damage. He’s okay. His wolf healed him just like it should have. He’ll even be able to shift in two months. His wolf is too exhausted to shift before then.”

The pack all holler and whop and scream their approval, there happiness. Laura and Cora are both tearing up and for a moment Stiles thinks they might need to leave the room but they silently wipe the tears away and stay there; in the happiness and pack. Stiles is happy.

* * *

 

“Der? I have someone who wants to meet you, well, two someones.” Stiles moves in the doorway, allowing Laura and Cora to walk in. They seem shy now, staying towards the back of the room and looking at Derek. Derek gasps. One is an alpha. Stiles is selling him? Getting rid of him? No. Breath catches in his throat and Derek is almost at the point of tears. He wasn’t too attached to this pack but he was starting too really like it. They seemed to care.

“Der? Do you remember them?”

Derek shakes his head and looks down at the blanket across his lap.

“Then why are you crying?”

“You’re getting…rid of me? She’s an alpha so---“

“Derek, no. When you were taken by that bitch, Lydia was looking for clues when she found them. This is Laura Hale, alpha of the New York pack and her sister, Cora Hale. They’re you’re sisters.”

Derek stares blankly at both of them. He blinks. And then again and again. The silence stretches on between the four of them.

“Derek? Do you remember anything before _her_?” Laura moves forward a bit and when Derek doesn’t seem to dislike it she moves closer. He shakes his head in answer. “You were born in New York to Talia Hale and David Hale. They had three children and their pack consisted of 24 wolves. Well, 11 of them were humans but same thing. Years ago, there was a fight between our pack and Kate’s. She burned our family alive and took you. We searched for years trying to find you but they had already fled too far. I never thought I’d see you again.” Laura launches forward and wraps her arms around her little brother, burying her face into his slender neck and cries. Cora follows shortly after.

Stiles feels like maybe he’s intruding. Like maybe he shouldn’t be watching this and instead sneak out. But Derek’s face stops him. Derek looks stoic. There are no tears dripping down his face and he isn’t sniveling. In fact, Stiles would say that this information hasn’t affected him at all. But then it does. Then it hits him and he’s bawling just like his sisters. Stiles smiles. Derek is an ugly crier and he shouldn’t find him adorable in the least but he does.

He leaves the family to fix themselves.

* * *

 

It’s nearing eleven at night when Stiles sends the rest of his pack to bed. They wanted to stay with Stiles, enjoy a miniature party to celebrate Derek’s health. The “party” ended hours ago and now they’re all just sitting and talking. Stiles was nodding off slowly, the rest just the same.

“Alright, I’m heading to bed, you guys go too,” Stiles says.

“Night,” is chorused after him.

Stiles stops in front of Derek’s door. He slept in there since his place was burned to a crisp. Now, well, now there’s his mate in that bed and he can’t really sleep there too. Speaking of which…Stiles opens the door and spots the siblings, crammed onto the full size bed. Laura and Cora are tangled in Derek’s thin limbs, Cora’s head on his chest and her leg over all the rest. Laura’s head is curved around Derek’s, her arm strung over her younger siblings and her legs bent away from them. Derek lays in the middle, his arms wrapped tightly around his sister’s waists. There are small smiles on each of their faces and Stiles is smiling fondly at them all. This is what he wants Derek to have.


	22. Two Alphas One Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek must choose who he stays with. Laura or Stiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY!!!! I tried writing this chapter on this site because my Microsoft subscription was canceled and when I had it all done, before I could post it I accidentally clicked on a link from my bookmarks bar and the entire chapter was gone. I went into a small slump. NOW, with Microsoft back, I have completed the last chapter. It's decent length, with no short cuts (like when Derek's PTSD thing disappeared for a bit in the last chapter) so it should be more satisfying. End of chapter note has something important...

Derek subtly inches away from Erica who gestures rather violently about her encounter earlier that day with an old woman from the grocery store. It’s a deep seated hatred that stems from the stores lack of stock in pickles that the pack has heard every first Sunday of every month for the past three years. Laura nods along, as if she’s actually agreeing with the violence Erica demands happens to the little old lady while Cora simply shakes her head and goes to the kitchen.

Stiles rolls his eyes fondly at her and she scoffs. “You just don’t understand the need I have for this specific pickle.” She picks one from her plate and wiggles it, tossing juice on Stiles face. “This wouldn’t be a problem if that old hag would back off my food.”

Stiles has tried every argument there is to combat her disdain but about two years ago they all gave up. It seemed simpler to restock the weight room they had downstairs in the basement than to argue with her.

“Guys, it’s about time we go,” Boyd says, slightly elevated voice reaching the top floor. The pack slowly descends the stairs, each one giving Stiles a slightly encouraging smile. They’re just as tense as Stiles is, just as scared Derek will choose his sisters over them. Stiles laughs a little at the thought. His pack wants Derek here almost as much as he does. He really hopes he gets to tell them good news by the end of the night.

“Where are you going?” Derek asks. It’s been a week since their rescue. Laura sent the rest of her wolves back to New York, said something about her territory as she sent them to the airport. She and Cora stayed, obviously, for Derek’s decision. In that week Derek had really bloomed. He may not be anywhere near “normal” but his progress is incredible. Even Deaton commented on it once or twice during his daily visits. Derek has talked more, full sentences and everything. And while some things still trigger him, closeness and touch doesn’t as often. There are still times where a touch is a little too rough and he remembers things, goes into flashbacks that the pack can’t get him back from until the memories done, but there more good days than bad.

“Out to dinner. You, Stiles, and Laura will be eating here,” Cora says. She emerges from the kitchen, pickle in hand, and waves as she dashes out of the house with Erica screaming after her about boundaries.

Scott comes up beside Stiles and places a hand on his shoulder. “Dude, calm down. Remember, you’re feelings affect Derek. Also, let me know what your tattoo looks like.”

“What?” Stiles asks confused. What tattoo?

“The one your hearts beating into your ribcage,”

“Har Har, like your funny,” Stiles shoves Scott out the door. If his best friend trips on his way out and smashes his face into the support beam on the porch, well, he can’t be blamed for laughing. Bastard deserves it.

“Why are we staying in?”

“Well, Stiles and I have something to discuss with you. It’s really important. But first, why don’t we set the table while Stiles gets dinner ready?” Laura suggests. Derek looks mildly petrified but nods.

* * *

 

When the pork chops are done and set on three plates the two alphas and Derek sit down. Stiles and Laura take either end of the table with Derek in the middle. He’s use to having wolves elbow to elbow with him, considering there still at Stiles’ father’s house and it’s cramped, but he liked it. The comfort of gentle touches and closeness. This distance sets him on edge.

“Am I in trouble? Did I do something wrong? I’m sorry, please don’t---“

“Derek, hey. Der, look at me,” Stiles gently takes the omega’s hand and rubs soothing circles into his palms. “We aren’t mad and you aren’t in trouble.”

Laura hates that she has to sit to the side while Stiles comforts her brother, _her_ brother but she understands that _mate_ and _brother_ don’t compare well. She’s determined to give this her all and respect whatever decision her brother makes but that doesn’t mean she won’t give it her all to take him with her.

“Derek? We like you. I’m pretty confident in saying that we both want you. But---“ Laura watches Derek flinch. “I have territory in New York, I can’t stay here like I have been. And Stiles has his pack here,” she waits for Derek to look at her, to focus all his attention on her. “You have to choose. Would you like to stay here with Stiles or with me in New York?”

Derek looks, well he looks a mix of emotions. Surprised, happy, confused, upset, sad, maybe a little disbelieving.

“But, no. How do I chose? Who?”

Stiles smiles reassuringly as he retracts his hand. He can’t take advantage of Derek’s touch starved state to get his vote. “This is up to you. It’s completely your choice now. You haven’t had a say all your life and now you do. Be reassured, no matter who you choose to go with, you are welcome into both packs. You can visit either one of us any time you want. Your choice won’t change how much we love you.” Stiles wants to correct himself, say, _how much_ I _love you_ but he bites his tongue. Now is not the time for that bomb.

“But, one of you will be sad and I don’t want to cause that. I like both of you, I can’t,” he looks down at the food on his plate, untouched, and pushes it away. He’s not hungry.

“Yes, one of us will be sad, but we want you to be happy and we want you to have a say in what happens in your life,” Laura smiles reassuringly to him but Derek hates the hope in her eyes. He knows it would crush her if he said Stiles. She’s his sister and logically he should want to go with her, and he does. They’ve bonded and for once in his life he felt like it was easy to let someone else in. There was instinctual trust there and doesn’t want to give that up.

But Stiles. Derek can’t name it, has no idea what to label the feelings there but he knows he can’t just leave Stiles either. He saved Derek, gave him treatment and care and he can’t throw that back in his face right?

Derek chances a glance over at Stiles. There’s an understanding in his eyes that Derek doesn’t really like. Like Stiles already knows Derek won’t choose him and he’s okay with that. Derek looks back at Laura. She’s hopeful but scared. He’s sad and anxious. While Laura’s heart beats a steading rhythm in her chest, Stiles’ is hammering.

He can’t hurt either one of them. He sets his head down in his folded arms on the table and bites his lip to keep it from trembling. He feels like baby. He finally gets to decide something with his life and he can’t.

“Hey, no, Der. Come on, it’s okay. Why don’t you talk aloud, let us know what you’re thinking?”

“We can answer any questions you have.”

“I can’t pick between you two. I’ll end up hurting one of you and I can’t…” Derek feels his throat begin to close up, his breathing coming shorter and shorter until there’s a lump in his throat that he can’t swallow past. He grips at the table, claws extending into the wood of the table and splintering it. Stiles has a fleeting thought of how he’ll have to buy his dad a new one before Derek consumes his mind. He launches from the seat to get to Derek, Laura doing the same, but it’s too late. Derek’s already lost in his mind.

* * *

 

“Who do you want to take you now?” Zayne asks. He looms over Derek who’s shivering and disoriented and hurt and scared. Gerard hadn’t done anything like this to him, this hurts, hurts, hurts.

“Why don’t we both take him? I’m sure the kids old enough for that,” a voice says from somewhere in the room. Derek feels a tingle up his spine. What will they do next? God, if it hurts more than what they just did he isn’t sure he can survive it.

“Great idea.”

Derek screams.

* * *

 

“Derek! Come on, you’re safe here with us. Your safe now!” Laura says. She gently touches Derek’s shoulder only for him to jerk back and a piercing scream to echo through the room. Stiles’ heart is beating out of his chest. He’s battling keeping his composure and wolfing out to chase the threat to his mate (Laura) out of the house.

The screaming only lasts another few seconds before Derek is out of his chair and running for the corner, back against the wall, sobbing. Cracked pieces of words spilling from his mouth. “Plea. No. Stop. Sorry. Sor---“

Stiles looks over at Laura and shakes his head. They pushed it too far. Derek clearly wasn’t ready. Laura nods to his spoken assessment. They’ll give it another week.

* * *

 

Stiles hated telling the pack about what happened. He had wanted to give them good news. It’s been a tense week, everyone on edge and worried and anxious. Derek has avoided everyone since then. He can’t look the two alphas in the eyes and he won’t talk. It’s like he’s digressed back to the omega Stiles found in the woods what seems like months ago.

It’s on that Friday that Laura pulls Stiles out the back door and a little ways from the house, from prying ears. “I know he’s still fragile but I can’t stay here any longer, Cora can only take my spot for so long. I want to talk to him alone.”

Stiles’ eyes narrow. Hell to the no. She is not going to take Derek with her like that. “Derek isn’t in any condition to---“

“I know Stiles. I promise I won’t try to persuade his opinion in my favor, but something has to be done. And I have to leave soon. Do you really expect me to just leave without his opinion?”

Stiles bits his tongue. He wants to shout yes in her face but he knows that’s not fair for Derek.

“Fine, but don’t you dare say anything to sway him to your side. It stays neutral.” Laura nods.

* * *

 

Lydia is two seconds away from stabbing Stiles in the face with her nail filer. He’s been pacing the room for the last hour, tense and growling. He’d told the pack of Laura’s decision and while none of them are any happier they can keep their calm a lot better than their alpha.

“Stiles, I swear to God, if you do not sit down this second I will take this,” she holds up her filer, “and shove it in your throat. You pacing around and being agitated is wearing on my last nerve.”

Stiles growls at her as he sits down. The shit he takes from his own pack is sad. Just sad.

The door creaks open, Derek trudging through the door. Stiles waits for Laura to come in but Derek just closes the door behind himself.

“Where’s your sister?” Boyd asks.

Derek looks at him and then at the rest of the pack, one by one making eye contact until he lands on Stiles. “She told me you’re my mate.” Stiles’ veins freeze. She what? “She said you knew since you rescued me but didn’t think it was a good time to say anything. She said it’s probably still not a good time to say anything. I don’t know what 'mate' means. She said it means that we are “meant to be” and that’s the reason I was having trouble choosing. Is she right?”

Stiles hasn’t a clue how his voice works anymore. It’s like he’s a baby and the most he can do is make aborted sounds of vowels so he nods instead.

“She said she couldn’t stay any longer but that I needed to make a decision. She said she will always love me but that I would do better staying here. She’s on her way to the airport. Did I…Did I disappoint her?”

That pushes the lump out of Stiles’ throat. “No, Der. She wants what’s best for you and she seems to think that’s here. I’ll call her tomorrow and we can go see her next month, when you can control your shift, how does that sound?”

Derek just nods. Stiles walks closer, opening his arms up in invitation for a hug. Derek moves slower than molasses but he does eventually lean against Stiles’ chest. It’s almost a minute before he wraps his arms around Stiles and squeezes. The contact puts him at ease. There used to be a buzzing in his chest but the contact with Stiles made it go away and he only notices now when it’s gone. He feels a little nauseous but he's with Stiles, his 'mate' and that's apparently what he needs. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I've decided, with another plot pup in my head, that this story will be a two part series!!!!!! In the next part...Derek...  
> no spoilers, jeez. :) Look forward to it. However, I did promise to come back to my ROTG story first so that will have it's short one chapter epilogue. But after look forward to something else Sterek!


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